


Under My Thumb

by impossiblemoon



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Love, Fluff and Angst, Get Together, M/M, Marauders, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Minor Alice Longbottom/Frank Longbottom, Mutual Pining, POV Remus Lupin, Pining, Requited Love, Slow Burn, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:27:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 64,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26173468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impossiblemoon/pseuds/impossiblemoon
Summary: There's something about Sirius Black that Remus Lupin can't resist. He's inexplicably drawn to him, like a moth to flame, but both boys have something to hide. Will their secrets bring them closer, or will they destory any chance they have together?A very slow-burn wolfstar get-together fic set during their time at Hogwarts. Contains some diversion from canon.Playlist of music used in the fic can be found here https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1zbdu4QWQIerIhJclo3MP0?si=IhZvbk3YRI6569HVSk7nKg
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 57
Kudos: 94





	1. Wake Up Sunshine

Remus hated silence. He spent enough time engulfed by it. Every month he would listen to the last of the magical chains clanging and banging against the door, willing the noise to continue. The silencing spells his father cast on the room worked both ways, so for that awful, awful night every month he would be completely alone. Shivering on the floor, quiet ringing in his ears. It would be so silent in that room that Remus could hear his heart beat, and although he wouldn’t swear on it, sometimes he felt as though he could hear each individual hair on his arm slowly stand on end as the time drew closer.

If Remus had his way, he would never be in silence. Noise was distracting, noise was exciting; it would fill your mind and take you to other places. In Remus’s opinion noise was natural - even in the most quiet of places you can always hear _something_. He loved hot summer nights; lying in bed with the windows open, listening to the gentle hum of crickets and the occasional train horn in the distance. Remus had lived in many places in his 11 years, but he found that no matter his location, there was always something to listen to.

There were very few sounds that Remus didn’t like. He didn’t mind the wail of police car sirens, or creaky old pipes clanging during the night. Remus didn’t mind dogs barking, cats hissing, or even the hideous sound foxes would make during mating season. Remus didn’t mind hearing cutlery scraping across a china plate, or hearing heavy furniture get dragged around. As long as there was something to listen to, he was happy.

In Remus’s experience, the only time it was ever completely silent were the moments before he would transform into a werewolf.

His mother’s record player was easily his most treasured possession. The BSR turntable was a bit tattered, having been bought second hand back in the early 60s. It had a shiny silver tone arm and a transparent grey lid, and the box it sat in was lined with red felt. Remus once had the mad idea to bring the record player into the room with him, and play _Please Please Me_. It was one of the final records his mother bought, and he had faint memories of her playing the album on repeat, picking Remus up to do the twist with her.

Luckily Remus came to his senses realised that the wolf would destroy the turntable once the full moon creeped up, and left it in its spot on his dresser.

And so, from the age of five, Remus developed an intense contempt for silence.

After the transformations Remus would lie shivering on the floor, a deep ache permeating every single bone of his body. He would always have scratches, but sometimes he would have deep cuts and gashes that wouldn’t stop oozing blood for hours. All the transformations were bad, but some were excruciating. Even after six years and over seventy full moons, his father still couldn’t look at him. He would be outside the door as soon as the sun came up, reversing his charms and incantations that kept the wolf inside. Often, even after his father entered the room, Remus still felt completely alone.

Lyall did what he could for his son, Remus had to give him that. He gave Remus every potion he could get his hands on, and tried every spell he was capable of to stop the pain of the transformations. Very little helped. Remus often wondered how different it would be if his mother was still alive. As he got older his memories of her got fuzzier and confusing, like a scratched record. Remus blamed himself, and whenever he felt as thought he couldn’t picture his mothers’ face clearly he would lock himself in his room and play her music as loud as he could. Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons, Ella Fitzgerald, Johnny Cash, Etta James and Chuck Berry — all sounds of the early 60s, and therefore all the sounds that Remus associated with his mother.

***

It was a few days before Remus’s eleventh birthday and he was dreading it. The full moon would come just two days after, meaning he would spend his birthday in apprehension of the transformation. They had just moved to a new area, but that was nothing new. Lyall was incredibly paranoid that someone would connect the dots of his son’s monthly sickness with the moon fazes, and as a result they would move often. Remus recalled one year when they didn’t stay in a new place for longer than a month. The wolf hated the change.

Remus knew his father was a wizard, but for all intents and purposes they lived like Muggles. Lyall often left his wand in his dead wife’s jewellery box, only using it when he had to cast the enchantments on the room Remus was transforming in. In his grief Lyall had isolated himself from the wizarding world, and took up Muggle odd jobs whenever he could. The only magical item Remus had from his father was a battered set of Gobstones.

That afternoon, he was lying on the shabby rug in their tiny cottage, playing Gobstones by himself. Lyall rarely spent time with his son, and spent the time he had off work locked in his bedroom. Remus didn’t know what he did in there, he never dared to ask.

It was an ordinary day by all accounts, the daffodils in the garden shaking off the last of the winter frost and reaching up greedily towards the sun. Remus had a record softly playing in the background, _Chicago II_. Music was the one thing that Lyall didn’t seem to mind Remus buying. Remus was careful to pick records that he thought his mother would have liked, and scrimped and saved every penny Lyall could spare. 

_Colour My World_ began, and Remus sighed and stretched out on the rug, trying to click his sore back. There was a soft rap on the door, so quiet that Remus questioned if he even heard one.

_Tap tap_

There it was again. There was definitely someone at the door. _How peculiar_ , Remus thought, as he ambled towards the door. They had only been at the cottage for two weeks, and they didn’t have any friends who came to visit. Remus struggled slightly with the rusty old sliding lock, and eventually he pulled the heavy oak door open. There, stood on the doorstop, was the most extraordinary looking man Remus had ever seen.

He was tall and thin, with long wispy silver hair and a beard that had bells tied to it. His nose was crooked, and it looked as though it had been broken several times and not been put back in place properly. His eyes were the most piercing shade of blue Remus had ever seen, and his half-moon spectacles were precariously balanced on the bridge of his nose. He was old, one of the oldest people Remus had ever seen, yet there was a youthful twinkle in his eyes. The man’s robes were a beautiful shade of midnight blue, and seemed to shimmer in the sunlight. Remus couldn’t decide if he was frightened or comforted by the appearance of this stranger.

“Good afternoon, Mr Lupin,” Said the stranger, smiling warmly as he held out his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Remus struggled to stop his mouth from falling open, and suspiciously regarded the man’s hand. He had never shook anyone’s hand before. Before he could say anything, the man spoke again.

“My name is Professor Dumbledore. I wonder if you would be so kind as to invite me in? There is much I would like to discuss with you.”

“I… I should get my father,” Remus stammered. “I’m not supposed to let anyone inside.”

Professor Dumbledore bent his head and nodded, with an understanding smile, “Of course. I’ll wait here.”

Remus pushed the door shut and ran to his father’s room, banging on the door.

“Dad! There’s a man outside. I think he wants to speak to you,” He called through the door.

“Tell him to go away,” Came the muffled response.

“Dad… I think he’s magical,” Remus pushed his ear against the door, listening intently. He heard the bed creak and footsteps hurry towards the door.

“Who is he?” Lyall demanded, yanking the door open.

“I don’t know, I’ve never seen him before!” Remus exclaimed. “He said he was a professor. Dumble-something.”

Lyall’s face drained of colour, and he stumbled against the door frame. His eyes were glassy.

“Dad, what is it? Is he bad?” Remus asked, frightened at the look on his father’s face.

“Go back to the living room Remus, and stay there. I’ll sort this out,” Lyall instructed. It was the first time he had ordered his son to do anything. Remus obeyed, trailing back towards his music.

He couldn’t make out much of the conversation. His father was speaking in angry, hushed tones but Dumbledore’s voice remained calm and pleasant, and seemed to be trying to convince Lyall something. Eventually, Remus heard the front door thud shut, and his father’s weary footsteps back into his room, shutting that door too.

Remus sat for a moment, debating whether to go and ask his father what happened. He looked up, and to his shock Dumbledore was sat on the sofa, his hands clasped together.

“What!?” Remus spluttered. “How did you get in?”

“I thought you might, perhaps, enjoy playing Gobstones with another person? The game is a great deal more enjoyable when it is not played alone,” Dumbledore responded, using a long finger to indicate the stones on the floor.

Remus sat for a moment, completely dumfounded. Although he couldn’t explain why, he decided to trust this eccentric old man. Remus nodded shyly, and Dumbledore slowly lowered himself onto the floor opposite him and flicked his wand. A chalk circle appeared on the floorboards, and the stones obediently rolled inside. Dumbledore looked up at Remus expectantly.

“The youngest has the first go.”

Remus managed a small smile.

***

It wasn’t long until his father left his room and shuffled into the living room. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Dumbledore, and staggered slightly.

“Are you going to take him to the Ministry?” Lyall asked shakily, the gaunt look returning to his face.

“If you knew me at all, Lyall, you would know that is the least of my intentions. I came to offer Remus a place at Hogwarts, where he can learn magic in a safe environment,” Dumbledore responded, smiling benignly.

“How can it be safe? You don’t know how hard it is. It’s getting worse as he gets older… I can’t cope…” Lyall trailed off, looking desperate.

“What’s Hogwarts?” Remus interrupted, irked that he wasn’t involved in the conversation. Dumbledore looked up at Lyall, but when he didn’t respond, he turned back to Remus.

“Hogwarts is a very special school, a boarding school, for witchcraft and wizardry. Your father went there, as do many other witches and wizards your age. You will learn magic and—”

“Do you know what I am?” Remus interrupted. “I’m dangerous. I shouldn’t be around other people.”

“I am aware of your condition, Remus,” Dumbledore looked forlorn. “We are in the midst of sorting arrangements, should you decide to attend Hogwarts.”

“What sort of arrangements?” Lyall asked, still not meeting his son’s eye.

“I cannot say now, but I give you my word that Remus will be safe at Hogwarts.”

Lyall looked completely desperate, and looked down at his feet.

“I can’t make the decision for him,” He eventually whispered. Dumbledore’s piercing eyes rested on Remus.

“You said it was a boarding school? That must be expensive. We don’t have any money,” Remus said gruffly, his face colouring.

“Arrangements are being made,” Dumbledore repeated, smiling sincerely. “We will help you with any costs, so you needn’t worry.”

“Right…” Remus trailed off, thinking hard. Schools were noisy places, there was no doubt about that. Although his father taught him at home, he often passed schools on his walks. The sounds of children whooping and shouting in the yard made Remus yearn for a normal life. Hogwarts, despite being a magical school, would surely be noisy too.

“As long as there’s no chance I’ll hurt anyone…” Remus began.

“My word, Mr Lupin. You have my word.”

Remus looked once more at his father, and then back at Dumbledore.

“Okay. I’ll come to Hogwarts.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song info:  
> The chapter title is Wake up Sunshine - Chicago  
> Please Please Me [album] - the Beatles  
> 


	2. Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus arrives at Hogwarts and meets some of the other students.

_Baby, do you understand me now?_

_Sometimes I feel a little mad_

_But don't you know that no one alive can always be an angel_

_When things go wrong I feel real bad._

_I'm just a soul whose intentions are good_

_Oh Lord, please don't let me be misunderstood_

The next few months seemed to fly by. As soon as Professor Dumbledore left that day an owl landed outside their kitchen window, tapping with its beak to be let in. Attached to its leg was Remus’s Hogwarts acceptance letter. He reread it every night before he went to bed, still not sure if he should let himself believe that he was going.

Parcels started arriving, also carried by large tawny owls. Remus couldn’t understand how creatures that size could carry such heavy objects, and was stunned when he opened one particularly weighty parcel to find four thick textbooks inside. By July he had everything he needed to begin at Hogwarts, and spent the hot summer pouring over the textbooks he was given.

They were second-hand, or perhaps even third-hand, but Remus couldn’t care less. None of his possessions were bought new, and besides, it was what was inside that counted. Lyall had told his son very little of the wizarding world, and Remus wanted to absorb every last detail he could.

He was bursting to ask his father questions about Hogwarts, having read all eight of his textbooks cover to cover. It just wasn’t possible. Lyall was more withdrawn than ever, leaving Remus to prepare his own meals and keep himself busy. He would emerge every full moon, to ensure Remus was safely locked in his room, but that was it.

As 1st September drew closer, Remus’s excitement slowly faded into anticipation, and then dread. He would lie awake late at night worrying - what if nobody liked him? What if he was rubbish at magic? What, and this was the worst one, if someone discovered his secret? From the little he understood about the wizarding world, he knew that werewolves were outcasts of society. They had to sign the Werewolf Registry, and turn themselves into the Ministry of Magic every month for the duration of their transformations. Remus dreaded to think how he would cope if that happened to him.

By the end of summer Remus and his father were living in a tiny flat in Croydon. Lyall hadn’t bothered finding a two-bed flat due to how soon his son was leaving for Hogwarts, so Remus was sleeping on the sagging old sofa. He woke up early on 1st September and checked his battered trunk. Everything was neatly packed, and his father had even let him take the record player with him. All that was left to do was get dressed and go.

Remus was surprised to find his father in the kitchen when he walked through. When Lyall was working he was often gone before Remus got up, and if he had no work on he wouldn’t leave his room until nightfall.

“Morning Dad.”

“Are you all packed?” Lyall gripped his coffee mug, looking down at the rising steam.

“Yeah, I—”

“We should to get going soon then. We’ll have to get the bus to East Croydon station, but then it’s a direct train to Kings Cross,” Lyall drained the rest of his coffee, and walked out of the room, leaving Remus alone.

***

Kings Cross was utterly chaotic. Commuters wearing suits with wide lapels and flared trousers, clutching briefcases as though their lives depended on it. Women with blown out, feathered haircuts, shepherding children through the station. Teenagers, presumably having bunked off school, running amok in their untidy uniforms. It was noisy, one of the noises places Remus had ever been. Business men chatting, ladies laughing, train announcements being read out on the tannoy.

Remus had no clue where to go, but to his surprise, his father took charge. Lyall took off through the station and Remus staggered after him, struggling with his trunk. He eventually came to a stop in front of a wall between platforms 9 and 10 and turned to look at his son.

“I’m going to leave you here Remus. I’m sorry, but I just can’t go through. I’m not ready to face them,” Lyall addressed a spot just behind Remus’s head, just like he usually does.

“What are you on about?” Remus asked. “I don’t see the train, it’s not the one going to Hull, is it?”

“You have to run through this wall.”

“Run through… You must be joking,” Remus would have laughed if his father didn’t have such a sombre expression on his face.

“I can’t take you any further. You have to trust me,” Lyall whispered.

Remus squinted at the wall, confused, but before he could say anything his father turned on his heel and vanished in the crowd. Remus felt like calling out, but knew there was no point. Dumbledore had also mentioned something about walking through a wall, but honestly, how ridiculous did that sound?

He stood to the side for a while, watching the crowds of people rush for their trains. He knew there was no use asking anybody, that was a surefire way to end up with the Muggle authorities. Remus began to feel more and more desperate, until he spotted a woman and two boys making their way towards him. He could tell they were magical straight away from the robes they were wearing — long and billowy, completely different to the leisure suits the muggles wore. Something felt strangely familiar about them, and Remus watched them intently as they approached.

Tall, slim and elegant, the woman would have been quite beautiful if it weren’t for the obvious look of disgust on her face. The boy sauntering behind her looked to be a similar age to Remus, but the boy trailing next to him must have been a year or two younger.

Remus guessed the tall lady was their mother due to the strong family resemblance, but from the way she held herself there was nothing maternal about her. She didn’t glance back at her sons once, and the older boy was pushing all his luggage on a cart. They all had sleek black hair and smooth pale skin, and the robes they were wearing looked expensive and well tailored. The older boy turned to look at Remus as they passed, winking at him and flashing a pearly white smile. Remus debated whether to say something, but before he could make a decision they vanished into thin air.

Remus looked around desperately, and realised that they must have walked straight through the wall. _Oh well,_ he thought, _what have I got to lose_? He took a deep breath, and without thinking he ran at full speed at the wall, eyes squeezed shut for impact. The noise around him suddenly changed, and the tang of magic permeated his senses. He slowly opened his eyes, and his mouth fell open.

It was like the Kings Cross he left behind, but also _nothing_ like the Kings Cross he left behind. Dozens of people milled around him, all wearing colourful robes, just like the ones Dumbledore had on. There was luggage everywhere, and Remus could hear the hooting of owls and mewing of cats coming from the occasional cage dotted here and there. Families were hugging their children goodbye, and there were loud cheers and shouts as older students reunited with their friends. It was the best noise Remus had ever heard.

There, in the same spot that the dingy Hull train was, sat the Hogwarts Express. It was a beautiful old thing, painted ruby red with gold accents. The carriages ran all the way down the platform, further than Remus could see, and he shivered with delight. A sign hung above the train; Platform 9 ¾. Remus had never seen anything so ridiculous in his life. The sound of the conductors whistle snapped him back into reality, and he scrambled onto the train, lugging his heavy trunk behind him.

It was noisier on the train than on the platform, with students running up and down the carriages, puffs of smoke and sparks flying above their heads. Remus staggered slowly down the corridor, peering into each compartment to see if any were free. It wasn’t until the third carriage when he gave up trying to find an empty compartment, and opened the door of one where a boy was sat, alone.

“Hi,” Remus announced, trying to sound bold as he stepped inside. “Would you mind if I sat in here? I can’t find any empty compartments.”

The boy looked up from his book and regarded Remus with dull, black eyes. He had greasy hair that covered his ears, and a hooked nose that gave him the appearance of permanent sneer. Remus could tell he was judging his shabby clothes and tatty trunk and felt angrily self-conscious.

“No, you can’t. I’m waiting for a friend,” The boy eventually said, his lips curling slightly in disgust.

“A friend? How’ve you managed that so quickly?” An unknown voice laughed. Remus wheeled around and came face-to-face with bespectacled skinny boy with wild black hair. He grinned broadly at Remus, “I’m James Potter, first year. Who are you two?”

Remus had never met someone so confident in his life, and regarded James carefully.

“I’m Remus. Remus Lupin. I’m also a first year.”

“Nice to meet you Remus,” James shook Remus’s hand, and Remus tried not to smile. It was an incredibly formal greeting for an 11-year-old to give.

“What about you, what’s your name?” James asked, addressing the greasy haired boy.

“I don’t think that’s any concern of yours, is it?” The boy snapped, eyes narrowed.

“Blimey, what’s your problem?” James asked exasperated, “I’m only trying to be friendly!”

“I’ve already got a friend,” The boy curtly replied. “I’d appreciate it if you left this compartment.”

“Well, with that attitude, I doubt you’ll make any more friends,” James retaliated, his voice rising slightly.

There was a snigger from the corridor and Remus looked round to see the boy he saw earlier in the station. Up close Remus could see he had smokey grey eyes, and high cheekbones. His black hair was longer than James's, falling in slight waves around his face. There was an air of sophistication about him, and he looked amused at the situation unfurling. He was slim but not skinny, leaning lazily against the wall. He had a laid-back smirk on his face, and was looking directly at Remus.

“Everything alright in there James?” He called out, without taking his eyes off Remus.

“Yeah, everything’s alright, just met a prat who thinks he owns the place,” James responded, leaving the compartment. “Remus, have you met Sirius?”

Sirius. What an intriguing name. It fit him, from what Remus could see he was an intriguing boy.

“Well, we’ve met now,” Sirius responded, still smirking, holding his hand out just like James had done. Remus shook it. “This isn’t the prat you were talking about, is it James?”

“No, it’s the greasy git back in there,” James responded, indicating with his thumb over his shoulder.

“Who are you calling a greasy git?” Interrupted a girls voice. The three boys spun around to see a small red-headed girl stood with her hands on her hips, a determined look on her face.

“Oh, don’t worry, I wasn’t talking about you!” James responded, laughing, “It’s that kid in there.”

“Well, I’ll have you know, Severus is my friend! I won’t tolerate him being spoken about like that!” The girl scowled at the boys and marched into the compartment, shutting the door with some force.

“Severus. Couldn’t have thought of a greasier name myself,” Remus murmured. To his surprise Sirius and James laughed, and James clapped a hand on his shoulder.

“Come sit with us Remus, you’re funny,” James gestured at the next-door compartment.

Remus flushed with pride, nobody had ever called him funny before. He followed the boys and sank down on the seat, properly smiling for the first time he could remember.

***

The long journey from London to Scotland seemed to fly by as Remus sat in a compartment with James and Sirius. He couldn’t quite believe that the two boys had only met that day, as their bantering and joking seemed timeless — as though they had been friends for years. Remus made sure to laugh when they laughed, and nodded along when one of them was telling a story. Despite enjoying himself, Remus couldn’t stop his tummy from squirming and twisting whenever references were made to the wizarding world. James and Sirius were Pureblood wizards, and they had grown up wealthy, surrounded by magic and excitement.

Remus knew it was silly to be jealous, after all, he was kept from others for his own safety. It still didn’t stop him feeling the ache of loss, and resolved to get as many books out from the library to catch up on any lost knowledge. He looked up, and realised with a start that James and Sirius had stopped talking, and instead were staring at him expectantly.

“Sorry, did you say something?” Remus asked, feeling flustered.

“Just asked where you were from, I’ve never heard anyone with an accent like yours,” James responded, smiling kindly.

“Oh, right. My dad’s a Yorkshireman and my mum, well, my mum was from Wales. We move around quite a bit, so I ‘spose my accent is a bit of a weird mix,” Remus could feel his cheeks burning, and quickly looked out of the window at the scenery rushing past.

“Yorkshire! Do you call lunch dinner then? Say you’re going oot and aboot?” James attempted a Scottish accent.

“I don’t think they’re going to let you into Scotland if that’s how you butcher the accent, Potter,” Sirius drawled, smirking at Remus. “You do know that Yorkshire is in England, right?”

“Course I do! Just got confused. Too many accents.”

“Yeah, _right_.”

James suddenly leapt at Sirius, and Remus drew his knees up to his chest as the two boys began play-fighting on the compartment floor, both laughing manically. Remus laughed too. These two boys were utterly mental, but he liked them. He only hoped they felt the same way about him.

***

By the train reached its destination it was nightfall, but Remus could just about make out the station name from the window, Hogsmeade. He climbed off the train with James and Sirius, and the three of them stood on the platform, looking around. There was no need to worry, as a booming voice addressed them.

“Firs’ years, firs’ years! Righ’ this way. Follow me, you don’ wan’ ter get left in Hogsmeade all night, now do ya?”

At the end of the platform stood a giant man, towering over the growing group of excitable looking first years. He had a mane of crazy black hair, and wore a huge patchwork coat made out of various animal hides.

“Is he… Is he a giant?” Remus whispered to James.

“That’s Hagrid,” James responded, waving at the man. “He’s only half-giant, you should see the size of a proper one! They’re at least five the size of Hagrid.”

Remus tried to imagine a man that big, and felt dizzy. He side-eyed Sirius, who was surveying the scene with a lazily amused expression on his face. Sirius hadn’t said much to Remus, so he decided to keep his distance slightly. He still wasn’t sure how to make friends.

They followed Hagrid out of Hogsmeade station and down a winding road until they reached a massive inky-black lake. In the distance, on the opposite bank, sat a beautiful castle. It was at least seven storeys high, with several turrets jutting out into the clouds above. Remus heard several of the other students around him stop and marvel, and felt that odd feeling of familiarity again.

There were several boats bobbing at the bank of the lake, and Remus realised Hagrid was directing the students into them.

“He’s not expecting us to row there, is he?” Remus asked in dismay.

“They’re enchanted. We’ll sit back, relax, and the magic will do all the work for us,” Sirius pointed out, making Remus feel a little ignorant.

The three boys clambered into the nearest boat, and sat waiting for it to move.

“Nothing’s happening,” James observed.

“10 points for stating the obvious, Potter,” Sirius replied, yawning. “I reckon it won’t move until it has four people in it.”

“How come you know all this stuff?” Remus couldn’t help asking, feeling envious.

“Let’s just call it… intuition.”

“Sod right off!” James playfully punched Sirius on the shoulder. “Bet you’ve just read it somewhere.”

Before Sirius could defend himself, Hagrid approached their boat and gently dropped a boy next to them.

“You lot take care of Mr Pettigrew, alrigh’?”

Nobody had time to say anything as the boat instantly started gliding through the water, just as Sirius had predicted. James began the introductions.

“This is Remus, that’s Sirius and I’m James! Nice to meet you, what did you say your name was?”

“I’m Peter. Look, I don’t mean to be rude but I get rather seasick. It’s probably only a matter of time until—” The boy quickly leant over the side of the boat and retched loudly into the water.

Sirius raised an eyebrow at Remus, and the two of them shared a quiet laugh.

***

Hogwarts Castle was grander than Remus imagined. He felt a bit embarrassed to be paraded down the centre of the Great Hall with the other first years, and he hoped nobody would notice his second-hand robes or silvery scars. There were four long tables running the length of the room, with rows of students sat either side. There was a long, vertical table at the top of the hall, where a row of older witches and wizards were sat. Remus presumed they were the professors. He glanced up, and nearly tripped as there was no ceiling, just the starry night sky.

The tall Scottish witch who had collected them (Remus was fretting too much to remember her name) had been saying something, and Remus tried to focus as she unfurled a scroll.

“Sakiya Abbott,” She announced.

A fellow first-year disentangled herself from the crowd and nervously approached the top of the hall. The witch indicated a stool next to her, the girl sat down and a large, tatty old hat was placed on her head.

A mouth had appeared in the seam of the hat, and it appeared to be talking! Surely _not_. Remus glanced around to see if anyone else was reacting, but every student in the hall seemed to be gazing intently at the hat, as if nothing was out of the ordinary. There was a minute of dead silence and then the hat shouted out.

“GRYFFINDOR!”

The Great Hall erupted into applause, the girl took the hat off her head and bounded off to the right to sit with the students with red ties.

“Bertram Aubrey,” Announced the tall witch, reading from a scroll.

The boy scuttled forward, and the hat was placed on his head.

“RAVENCLAW!”

Bertram ripped the hat from his head and lolloped over to the blue-tied table.

“Rowan Avery,”

The hat was placed on the boys head, and almost instantaneously it called out.

“SLYTHERIN!”

There was applause, but not as much as before.

“Sirius Black,”

The applause quickly faded. Remus watched as Sirius sauntered up to the stool, held his hand out for the hat, and winked at the witch. Remus heard James scoff next to him. Sirius placed the hat on his head, and it seemed to be thinking deeply. It didn’t take too long.

“GRYFFINDOR!” Roared the hat.

There was a moment of stunned silence, until the students with the red ties began cheering and whooping loudly. Sirius swept off towards their table, winking at James and Remus as he passed. The hat ritual (as Remus had decided to call it) continued.

“Charlotte Dearborn,”

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

“Lily Evans,”

“Oi, that’s the girl from the train!” James whispered, nudging Remus.

“GRYFFINDOR!”

Off she skipped.

“Remus Lupin,”

Remus exhaled, shakily, and slowly made his way towards the stool. The witch placed the hat on his head, covering his eyes.

“Now you’re an interesting one,” A voice whispered in his ear. Remus tried not to jump, and gripped the stool beneath him tightly. “You’ve got some secrets, haven’t you?”

 _Please don’t tell them_ , begged Remus, using his mind to speak to the hat, _please, please don’t tell them._

“Your secret is not mine to tell, little wolf. Now let’s see, shall we. You’ve got a good brain, perhaps Ravenclaw would suit you. You’re resourceful too, but I don’t think Slytherin would be the best match. Hufflepuff would value your hard work, but that doesn’t seem right either. No, I think I know what to do with you… GRYFFINDOR!”

Remus’s eyes snapped open and he yanked the hat from his head, passing it back to the witch before hurrying towards Sirius, who was clapping and cheering along with everyone else.

“Well done, mate,” Sirius grinned at him as he sat down. Remus couldn’t believe his ears — mate! Someone had actually called him a mate! He sat with his head whirling, completely missing out on the next half a dozen hat rituals, until Sirius nudged him.

“Look, it’s Pukey Pete,”

Remus looked up as Peter wobbled up to the stool, still looking slightly nauseous. He was a little on the round side and had mousy hair that was neatly combed down the middle. His cheeks were flushed and Remus felt a little sorry for him; he just looked so hopeless. The hat was placed on his head, and the boys gazed on, waiting for the decision.

They waited.

And they waited.

And they waited a bit more.

It took over five minutes for the hat to make up its mind, and everyone in the room seemed rather fidgety and fed-up.

“GRYFFINDOR!”

“You’ve _got_ to be kidding me,” Sirius shook his head in disbelief. “He’s Hufflepuff all over.”

“Don’t be mean,” Lily gently warned, who was sat opposite Sirius and Remus. “You should give him a chance.”

Remus smiled at her, despite her outburst on the train she seemed like an alright person. Well, as alright as a girl could be.

“Bit of a Hatstall, aren’t you mate?” Sirius smirked as Peter approached them.

Remus felt his stomach twist again. Sirius called Peter mate too. Maybe Sirius didn’t actually mean Remus was his mate. Maybe it was a word he used for everyone. Maybe he couldn’t stand Remus at all. Before Remus could worry further, the witch read out another name.

“James Potter,”

“Come on James,” Urged Sirius, staring as the boy confidently plonked himself down on the stool. Sirius needn’t have worried, as the hat seemed to have made a decision before it even touched James’s untidy hair.

“GRYFFINDOR!”

Sirius leapt up and started cheering loudly. Remus cheered as well, but his tummy was still in that funny twist. James strolled towards them and grinned widely.

“We all made it then, lads!” He dropped into his seat and sighed happily, “I have a good feeling about this year, we’re going to have a blast.”

Remus sincerely hoped he was right.

***

Remus did his best to ignore that annoying twist in his stomach, and just enjoy the evening like everyone around him. After the hat ritual had finished, Professor Dumbledore got up and stood behind a gilded lectern, surveying the Great Hall with his piercing blue eyes. Remus could have sworn that Dumbledore looked straight at him for a moment before he started speaking, but felt that it was very unlikely.

“Welcome all to a new year at Hogwarts! It is with the greatest pleasure that I welcome the first years. I do sincerely hope that you enjoy your time here, and do take care not to get lost. Of course, a hearty welcome back is in order for the returning students. Before we tuck into our delectable feast, I have a word of warning. We have a new species on the grounds - the Whomping Willow. The tree is unlike any other you will have seen before, as this tree instinctively attacks people,” Remus looked at James and Sirius, alarmed. _Surely_ he misheard that. Dumbledore casually continued his speech, “As long as you keep your distance, no harm will come to you. Now, I think it’s time we began our feast!”

Dumbledore clapped his hands twice and platters upon platters of food appeared on the tables. There was golden roasted chicken dripping in honey, thinly sliced beef, crispy roast potatoes and every type of vegetable Remus could name, generously seasoned with herbs. Yorkshire puddings were piled high, and there were jugs filled with different types of gravy dotted across the table. Remus couldn’t believe his eyes. He did most of the cooking at home, but the most exciting meal he could make was a basic bolognese with cheap tinned tomatoes from the shop.

Everyone had started tucking in, and Remus began to serve himself, piling his plate high with everything he could reach.

They ate and they ate until they could eat no more, and Peter belched loudly. James and Sirius snickered appreciatively and Lily rolled her eyes.

“Come along, Gryffindor first-years, follow me please,” Called a voice.

A tall student was stood over them, a shiny badge pinned to his robes. The Gryffindor first-years stared at him, and the boy smiled.

“I’m Frank, Head Boy. I’m to escort you to the Gryffindor common room,” He explained. “Come along, we don’t have all night!”

The first-years staggered to their feet, feeling very full after their meal. Frank led them out of the Great Hall and up a staircase. Remus glanced up and nearly toppled over when he realised that the staircases above him were moving. He turned to tell James, but he was up front, talking to Frank.

“You’re Frank Longbottom, right?” Remus heard him ask. Frank chuckled.

“That’s me! How did you know?”

“Dad told me to look out for you. He’s good friends with your father.”

“Oh - hang on, you’re not Fleamont’s son are you? Haven’t seen you since you were a tot.”

Remus felt that squirming feeling in his stomach again. Did every wizard know each other? He trailed along, feeling like an outsider as the other students chattered and marvelled at the castle. They eventually came to a stop outside a huge portrait of a large woman in a pink silk dress. All the paintings in Hogwarts were enchanted, and the subjects were free to roam as they pleased.

“This is the Fat Lady,” Frank explained. A titter went through the group. “Her portrait covers the entrance to the Gryffindor common room. She won’t let you in if you don’t have the password, and it changes every month, so don’t forget it. The current password is _dillegrout_.”

As Frank said the word, the portrait swung backwards, revealing an entrance through the wall. The first-years trooped through, but before Remus could go in Frank stopped him.

“You’re Remus Lupin, right?” Frank asked, peering at his face.

“Yeah - how do you know who I am?” Remus was starting to feel tired of wizards knowing who was who when he didn’t know anything.

“I used my powerful skills of Legilimency,” Frank grinned. “Nah, James told me who he was, and I could spot one of the Black clan from a mile off. Nobody could forget Pettigrew after that hatstall, so you’ve got to be Lupin!”

“Right…” Remus responded, feeling weary. None of what Frank was saying made sense. “Did you want me for something?”

“Yes, sorry. Professor McGonagall said you were to go and see her straight after the feast. Her office is just over there,” Frank indicated a door just down from the portrait. Remus nodded, and walked down towards it. He heard the portrait swing shut behind him, and knocked on the door.

“Come in,” A clipped voice responded. Remus pushed the door open and walked inside.

The room was circular, and the walls were lined with fitted shelves, creaking under the weight of many, many books. A large, mahogany desk sat near the window, with two green leather armchairs in front of it. Papers were piled high on the desk, and behind it sat the tall, Scottish witch from the hat ritual. She looked stern and no-nonsense, with black hair tied into a tight bun. Another witch was in the room, sat in one of the green armchairs. She was a little plumper than the Scottish witch, and dressed all in white. She had a kind face, and smiled at Remus warmly as he shuffled into the room.

“Good evening, Mr Lupin. Please take a seat,” Said the Scottish witch, pulling her lips into a thin, but genuine smile. Remus sank into the leather chair next to the witch in white. “I was pleased to see you were sorted into Gryffindor,” She continued, clasping her hands together.

“Yeah,” Remus responded. He still didn’t quite understand what anyone was saying.

“I’m Professor McGonagall, Head of Gryffindor House and Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts.”

Remus felt a bit embarrassed. Was it that obvious that he didn’t know who she was? “Yeah…” He repeated, wondering where this conversation was going.

“This is Madam Pomfrey, the Matron of Hogwarts,” McGonagall added, nodding at the other witch.

“It’s very nice to meet you Remus. Welcome to Hogwarts,” Madam Pomfrey smiled at him, and to Remus’s relief she did not shake his hand. He wondered vaguely what a Matron was.

“We are aware of your lycanthropy condition, and wanted to discuss the arrangements we have put in place,” McGonagall bluntly said.

Remus felt the colour drain from his face. “Right,” Single word sentences seemed to be the way to go.

“I’m sure you heard Professor Dumbledore speak of the Whomping Willow at the Welcome Feast. We have sorted a secure location for you to spend your transformations, with a secret passageway leading to it from under the tree. The Willow will ensure that nobody can reach you during the full moons,” McGonagall finally noticed the look on Remus’s face, and she continued in a softer voice. “You will meet Madam Pomfrey at the Hospital Wing before the full moon, and she will escort you to the location.”

“I’m afraid I won’t be able to stay with you for the transformations, but I’ll return at dawn to help you back to Hogwarts,” Madam Pomfrey added, kindly.

“Right,” Remus struggled of something else to say.

“The next full moon is in… Four days,” McGonagall glanced down at the papers in front of her. “Sunday night. You will, of course, not be required to attend lessons after the transformations.”

Remus wasn’t sure how he felt - relieved, or scared. He wondered what his new transforming location would be, and whether it would be silent like at home.

***

When Remus finally made it to the Gryffindor common room he was utterly exhausted. Professor McGonagall reminded him what the password was, so the portrait swung open at his command. He tripped through the hole into a large, cheerful room. There was a roaring fire to his right, with a battered old kettle swinging from a hook in the fireplace. The room was littered with sofas, armchairs, side tables, and other random furniture. There was even a cluster of straight backed chairs around a large table at the back of the room. Remus assumed it must be some sort of study corner.

“Alright, Remus?” Asked a friendly voice. Frank was sat on a large sofa by the fire, his arm around a pretty girl with freckles.

“Yeah,” Still on the one word responses. Remus tried to think of something to say, but luckily the girl spoke.

“Do you know where your dormitory is, love?”

Remus blinked. Nobody had ever called him love before. He shook his head shyly.

“Honestly, some Head Boy you are!” She laughed and playfully shoved Frank’s shoulder, “Are you going to show him or am I?”

“I’ll show him,” Frank gave the girl a quick kiss on the cheek and got up. “The house elves will have already taken your luggage up, so you don’t worry about that. Follow me!”

Remus vaguely wondered what a house elf was as he followed Frank through the common room, and up a staircase on the right.

“Is she your girlfriend?” Remus asked, summoning a bit of courage as they climbed the stairs.

“Yeah, that’s Alice. She’s a Gryffindor prefect so you’ll see her around a fair bit. Should’ve been Head Girl, in my humble opinion, but Dumbledore picked Lucinda Singh. Nothing wrong with her, of course, but it would’ve been nice if it was me and Alice… Anyway. This is you. It’ll be your dorm until you leave Hogwarts, so try not to scorch the ceiling too much. Night then!” Frank grinned at Remus, and started to make his way back downstairs.

“Frank?” Remus called, after a moment.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

Remus pushed open the door and walked inside. The dormitory was circular, just like the common room and McGonagall’s office. There were four poster beds with red curtains, each separated by a wardrobe and a bedside table. Four windows lined the walls of the room, each with a large windowsill big enough to sit on. An iron stove sat in the centre of the room, and there was a door to Remus’s left, leading to what he assumed was the bathroom. James, Sirius and Peter were already in the room, and James bounced off his bed as soon as he saw Remus.

“There you are! Was wondering where you got too. Feels like you vanished into thin air after the Sorting Ceremony.”

“Sorting Ceremony? Is that what is was called?” Remus couldn’t help but ask.

“Yeah — why, what did you think it was?”

“Some sort of hat ritual, I don’t know.”

The boys erupted into laughter, and James clapped his hand on Remus’s back.

“Hat ritual! You make me laugh. So, where were you?”

“Oh. Had to speak to McGonagall.”

“Not in trouble already, are you?” Sirius asked. He was sat on his windowsill, swinging his long legs. Remus narrowed his eyes slightly, what did he mean by _already_?

“No. I’ve had to borrow my textbooks so it was just about that,” Remus surprised himself at how quickly he came up with the lie. “Which bed is mine?”

James pointed to the bed on the far right, “That one, you’re next to me.”

Remus walked over to his bed, and spotted his trunk next to the dresser. He dropped to his knees, undid the heavy clasp and started to pack away his clothes. The boys around him seemed to have unpacked already, and they lounged about chatting. James starting sticking up moving posters of men on broomsticks, and Peter emptied out a huge bag of sweets and chocolates onto his bed. Remus hung up the last of his clothes, and started on his textbooks. He placed them carefully on the shelves above his bedside table, excited at the thought of filling them up with more books. Finally, Remus gingerly lifted out his record player, placing it gently on his bed.

“Is that what I think it is?” A voice whispered near his ear. Remus jumped as Sirius moved over to his bed. The boy moved like a cat, silently and stealthily. “It’s a turntable, right?”

“Yes. It was my mother’s,” Remus hadn’t meant to snap, but Sirius gave him a funny look, and backed away from his bed slightly. Remus exhaled, and tried again, his voice softer, “I’m not sure where to put it.”

“You can put it on my book trunk, if you like. It’s got a flat top,” Sirius casually said, pointing at one of the trunks by his bed. Remus tried not to react to the fact Sirius had more books than he did worldly belongings, and nodded gratefully as the boy brought it over. Remus kept his head down, fiddling with the box as he set up the record player.

“You got any good records then?” Sirius asked, stepping towards Remus’s trunk where his collection was stacked.

“I’m not sure if you’d find them good,” Sirius raised an eyebrow, the shadow of a smile playing on his lips. “No- I didn’t mean it like that! I don’t think I’m into ‘good’ music.”

“Can’t be any worse than the stuff my mum plays,” James sighed. “She’s in denial that music has evolved since 1920s jazz and ragtime.”

“Okay, I think my taste is _marginally_ better than that,” Remus cracked a shy smile.

“Go on then, play something!” Peter called out.

Remus turned back to his trunk, and leafed through his record collection. Now that it came to it, he couldn’t think of what to play, afraid that the boys would judge him. His hand hovered over one particular vinyl. It was Remus’s newest record, having only been released a month beforehand. It was a gamble, but Remus decided to risk it. He crossed over to the turntable, gently took the record out of its sleeve and placed it on the platter. Remus briefly glanced at the boys, and lowered the tone arm. The record began to spin and a synthetic, organ like sound filled the room.

“What is that noise?” Peter asked, scrunching up his nose.

“Is the record stuck?” James asked, peering at the turntable.

“Just shut up and listen!” Remus implored.

Piano chords had started. Next, the drums. Remus looked over at Sirius, who had backed onto his bed and was now lying on his back with his eyes shut.

_Out here in the fields_

_I fight for my meals_

_I get my back into my living_

_I don't need to fight_

_To prove I'm right_

_I don't need to be forgiven_

_Don't cry_

_Don't raise your eye_

_It's only teenage wasteland_

Remus let the whole of _Baba O’Riley_ play, but lifted the needle once _Bargain_ started. The boys sat in silence.

“That… That was incredible,” Sirius eventually said, propping himself up on his elbows. “That made me feel really weird, but in a brilliant way. I feel like I’ve got my whole life ahead of me.”

Remus couldn’t help but smile. It was the most Sirius had said to him.

“I can honestly say I’ve never heard anything like that before,” James added, pushing his glasses up his nose.

“What did you say the band was called, Remus?” Peter asked.

“ _The Who_.”

“Who?”

“The _Who_.”

“No, I’m asking who sang it.”

“It’s _The Who_.”

“Don’t you know who sang the song?”

“Peter, you absolute moron, the band is called _The Who_ ,” Sirius interrupted exasperatedly, crossing the room. “Right Remus?”

“Yeah, that’s right.”

“We’ve got to get you some more records,” Sirius knelt down and began to skim through Remus’s collection. “You’ve got some good classics here, but you need more rock.”

“ _The_ _Who_ are rock!” Remus refuted.

“ _More_ rock, you need _more_ ,” Sirius grinned at Remus. “I’ll owl my cousin. I’m not allowed any records but Andromeda’s got loads. See what she recommends… Ah. Now _this_ is a good one.”

Sirius gingerly put _Who’s Next_ back in its sleeve and placed _Beggar’s Banquet_ on the platter. The opening drums of _Sympathy for the Devil_ started playing, and Sirius paraded around the room singing, shaking his hips like Mick Jagger.

Remus sat back on his bed and watched as Sirius picked up Peter’s wand, pretending to use it as a microphone. Peter jumped up and began chasing Sirius around the room while Remus and James sat back and laughed.

Maybe James was right. Maybe this year _was_ going to be a blast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song info:  
> The chapter title is Don’t Let Me Be Misunderstood - the Animals  
> Baba O'Riley - the Who  
> Sympathy for the Devil - the Rolling Stones


	3. White Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus has his first few days at Hogwarts.

_In the white room with black curtains near the station_

_Black roof country, no gold pavements, tired starlings_

_Silver horses ran down moonbeams in your dark eyes_

_Dawnlight smiles on you leaving, my contentment_

_I'll wait in this place where the sun never shines_

_Wait in this place where the shadows run from themselves_

Remus woke with a start. He was used to beginning his days in new rooms, but this was by far the grandest bedroom he’d been in. Hogwarts. He was at Hogwarts. It all came rushing back to him. Through the curtains he could hear faint little snores and contented sighs. Everyone else was still asleep.

He swung his legs through a gap in the curtains and slowly stood up, stretching in the dull morning sun. He wasn’t sure how much time he had until the others woke up, so grabbed his robes and crept into the bathroom, shutting the door softly behind him.

The bathroom was exquisite. Cool marble tiles lined the floor, and the the countertops containing the two sinks were white quartz. A large white bath sat in the centre of the room on carved gold feet, and a toilet and two stand-alone showers stood in the back corners of the room.

Remus double checked the door was locked and peeled his pyjamas off, leaving them in an untidy pile on the wicker chair in the corner. He crossed the room towards the showers, jumping at his reflection in the floor length mirror leaning against the wall. He really didn’t look his best.

His curly, caramel coloured hair had flattened in some parts and was sticking up in others. His skin was pale and there were dark rings under his eyes, contrasting against his amber irises. His body was covered with a criss-crossing of silvery scars, werewolf scars, the kind that didn’t heal no matter what ointment you smeared on them. His shoulders were the worst, and the scars snaked all the way down his arms, across his chest and even down his legs. He only had one scar on his face; it started on his right cheek and went all the way down towards the bottom of his ear, down his neck, finishing in the dip of his collarbone. _Scarred and skinny_ , Remus thought, _that’s all I am; scarred and skinny._

Remus reached inside the shower and turned the tap on, his hand snaking in and out of the spray until it was the optimal heat. He liked his showers hot. He stepped in and shut the door, watching as the glass around him fogged up. There was shower-gel, shampoo and conditioner in neatly labelled glass bottles on a little shelf below the shower head. Lyall didn’t buy such luxuries as separate soaps for your hair. Remus grabbed the shower-gel and squirted some in his hands, lathering it into his hair and scrubbing his body.

He didn’t take long, his father was always anxious about how much the bills would be, so Remus was used to using as little water as possible. He stepped out of the shower and grabbed one of the fluffy red towels. His initials were embroidered on it in a fine gold thread. _These Hogwarts kids must be rich if they need personalised towels_ , he thought.

He dressed quickly and brushed his teeth, using his sleeve to wipe the condensation from the mirror. It was still very foggy in the bathroom, so he went to open the window to let some cool air in. It was the first time he had seen the Hogwarts grounds in the daylight, and squinted at a huge tree in the distance. It was moving; the branches were swaying a great deal more forcefully than the other trees around it, and Remus realised in dismay that it must be the Whomping Willow.

“You nearly done in there Remus?” Called James’s voice. “Pete looks like he’s about to piss himself!”

Remus hurried to the door and opened it, stepping into the dormitory feeling flustered. Peter rushed in behind him and slammed the door.

“Sorry about that, I didn’t realise I was taking so long,” He apologetically called through the door.

“Don’t feel bad about it,” James smiled. “Pete necked his whole jug of water last night, must’ve been those sour sweets.”

“I’ve got a weak bladder!” Peter shouted from the bathroom.

“Well, that’s put me off my breakfast,” Sirius poked his head out from his curtains and yawned. “Not sure how I’m going to cope sharing a bathroom.”

“You rich git,” James threw his pillow at Sirius.

***

Breakfast was an impressive affair. Jars upon jars of different jams, marmalades, curds and spreads. Slices of bread, some toasted, some fried in eggs. More cereals than Remus could name. Eggs cooked in various ways; fried, poached, boiled and scrambled. There was bacon, sausages, smoked salmon, hash browns and baked beans. There was even a plate of mushrooms, which Remus wrinkled his nose at. Everyone tucked in, and Alice and Frank strolled down the Gryffindor table, handing out rolls of parchment.

“Here’s your timetable Remus,” Alice said, placing the parchment next to his plate.

“Fanks Als,” He slurred, his mouth full of scrambled eggs.

“Already on first name terms with the prefects?” Sirius asked as she walked away, cocking one perfect eyebrow.

Remus swallowed his mouthful, “Well, I can’t exactly call her sweetie-pops at breakfast.”

James snorted.

“Looks like we’ve got Charms first with Professor Flitwick,” Peter mused, squinting at his timetable. “I’m going to have to run back to Gryffindor tower, I forgot my textbooks.”

“For Merlin’s sake, Peter,” Sirius sighed. “Didn’t it occur to you that you might need those for lessons? You’re so dopey.”

“Don’t be mean,” Remus said, glaring at Sirius. “I’ll come with you Peter. I think I left my wand in my trunk.”

“You left your wand behind?” Sirius sniggered. “What sort of wizard are you?”

“We’ll meet you at the classroom,” Remus said, looking pointedly at James. “Come on Peter, we should go now if we don’t want to be late..”

***

Remus spent the next few days trying to avoid Sirius Black. It was a difficult feat, considering they shared a bedroom and were in the same class for every lesson. He was fed up of the sarky comments he kept making, and his desperation to have the last word in every conversation made Remus’s blood boil. Sirius had a talent for making Remus feel stupid, so he kept his distance as best he could.

Luckily, Remus loved the lessons. They only had two days of teaching before the weekend, but Remus had adored every single second of it. Learning how to use his wand was thrilling, and Remus felt as though his knowledge of the wizarding world was growing by the minute. He spent his evenings traipsing the library, taking out every book he could get his hands on.

It was late Sunday afternoon, and Remus was sat at the large table in the Gryffindor common room, surrounded by his books. He was utterly engrossed, and didn’t realise someone had come over to him until they cleared their throat.

“I’m impressed! We haven’t even had a History of Magic lesson yet and you’re already doing the extra reading.”

Remus moved a couple of his books so he could see over the pile. Lily Evans was stood there, smiling.

“Feel like I don’t know as much as the others. Just trying to keep up,” Remus said, gruffly. He was always irritable before the full moon.

Lily nodded knowingly and slid into the seat next to him, “Are you Muggleborn too?”

“No. Well. I don’t think so,” Remus was still learning the lingo. “My dad’s a wizard.”

“Oh, sorry! I didn’t realise.”

“No, it’s fine. I was basically raised like a Muggle. My dad doesn’t really do magic anymore, I don’t know anything.”

“That’s not true!” Lily exclaimed. “You’re clever, you always get questions right.”

Remus felt a bit embarrassed. He hadn’t put his hand up in any lessons, but teachers still picked on him.

“Yeah, well, I’ve got a good memory. Doesn’t make me clever.”

“I think that does make you clever Remus.”

Remus squirmed in his seat, feeling uncomfortable. He looked down at his watch and jumped, “Sorry Lily, I’ve got to go,” He sprang from his seat and started gathering together his books.

“Do you need a hand with these? There’s no way you can carry them all,” Lily offered.

“No, leave it,” Remus snapped, grabbing the final book. “I don't need help.”

He bolted up to the dormitory, dumped the books on his bed, and rushed back downstairs. He just about had enough time to get to the Hospital Wing, but that was only if he didn’t get lost.

“Where you off to Remus?” James called as he rushed past. He was sat with Sirius by the fire, playing a game of Exploding Snap.

“Hospital Wing, headache,” Remus blurted, and shot off through the portrait hole.

***

Remus made it just in the nick of time. Madam Pomfrey was waiting for him outside the Hospital Wing and regarded him carefully as he skidded around the corner.

“You shouldn’t be running around, not at this time,” She scolded him. “You shouldn’t exert yourself too much.”

Remus muttered an apology and the two of them walked through the castle and out on the grounds. They headed towards the tree that Remus saw from the bathroom window, and he felt his stomach drop. He tripped over a root and Madam Pomfrey held his arm to steady him, peering into his face worriedly.

“You’re looking very peaky Remus.”

“That might have something to do with the fact I’ll be turning into a werewolf soon,” Remus couldn’t help but snap. Madam Pomfrey blinked, but didn’t react. Remus immediately felt ashamed of himself. He spoke to Lily in a similar manner too, and waves of guilt crashed into him. Remus made a mental note to try to make it up to her.

“I’m sorry,” He meant it. He hoped he sounded sincere.

“That's alright Remus. I can’t imagine how you must be feeling.”

Madam Pomfrey was being so nice it almost made Remus feel worse. They approached the tree, and came to a stop.

“There’s a knot on the trunk that will momentarily stop it from moving,” Madam Pomfrey explained. “We’ll then be able to get into the passageway. We’ve got a stick that’s just the right length to reach it from here… _Accio_ stick.”

She waved her wand and a long, gnarled stick came flying towards them from the Forbidden Forrest. Remus ducked but Madam Pomfrey deftly caught it before it hit him. She used it to prod the trunk of the Whomping Willow, and all of a sudden it froze, its previously moving branches still.

“Come along,” Madam Pomfrey briskly strode towards the tree, and clambered down into a passageway at the base of the tree. Remus followed her, and as soon as he jumped down he heard the tree creak and start moving again.

They trailed down the dark passageway for a while, Madam Pomfrey using her wand as a light. Finally they came to a stop outside a large wooden door. Madam Pomfrey muttered some spells, there was a loud clicking sound and the door creaked open.

They were inside a foyer of a house. Well, a house was a grand word for what the building was. It seemed abandoned, with boarded windows and paper peeling from the walls. Madam Pomfrey led Remus upstairs into a room with a large four poster bed, not unlike the one he slept in at Hogwarts. Everything was threadbare, and covered in a grimy layer of dust.

“I think it would be wise if you left your wand here,” Madam Pomfrey lifted one of the floorboards, revealing a small, enclosed space. “I’ve also left an emergency first aid kit down there, but I doubt you’ll have to use it.”

Remus handed her his wand, and she carefully replaced the floorboard.

“You can lie down if you think it will help,” She said kindly. “I should go now, it’s nearly time.”

Remus nodded and clambered onto the bed. He didn’t trust himself to speak.

“I’ll be back at dawn,” Madam Pomfrey patted him on the shoulder, then seemed to think better of it and squeezed his hand. “Good luck Remus.”

Remus listened to her leave, and strained his ears in the silence, feeling sick and dizzy.

The house was completely silent.

***

The transformation was harrowing. The wolf had torn its prison to shreds, ripping what was left of the wallpaper and breaking the boards across the windows. Remus came to on what was left of the bed, sweating and shaking. He used the last of his energy to pull the bedsheets around him, hoping that Madam Pomfrey would be there soon.

The house was still deathly silent, and Remus could feel the panic slowly bubbling inside him. He tried breathing deeply; in through the nose and out through the mouth, but it didn’t help. In the end Remus let the darkness take him and passed out, surrounded by splinters and broken wood.

“Remus?” A voice pierced through the silence, “I’m coming up now.”

He was vaguely aware of the stairs creaking as someone made their way up to the bedroom.

“Oh, Remus,” He lifted his head to see Madam Pomfrey approaching him. “Let’s take a look at you.”

He groaned as he struggled to sit up, his head feeling as though it was full of broken glass.

“No, no, don’t move, dear. I can patch you up from here.”

Madam Pomfrey waved her wand over Remus and a warm, fuzzy feeling tingled through him. She peered at a large gash in her shoulder and murmured an incantation. The cut instantly closed up. Remus couldn’t believe his eyes.

“Have you broken any bones?”

“Dunno,” It was a struggle to speak. “Left elbow feels… Wrong.”

Madam Pomfrey nodded and tapped his elbow. There was a loud pop and his arm straightened out. Remus groaned, but his elbow instantly felt better. He tentatively waggled his fingers. He was achey and exhausted, but at least his limbs seemed to be working.

“Are you able to walk? I can summon a stretcher if need be.”

“I’ll walk,” Remus pulled himself to a seated position, dragging the bedsheets over his chest, shivering.

“Did you remove your robes before you transformed?”

“Under the floor.”

Madam Pomfrey knelt and removed Remus’s robes and wand from under the floorboards.

“I’ll give you some privacy while you change,” She kindly said. “I’ll just be outside.”

Remus nodded and gingerly pulled his clothes on, trying not to cry out as the fabric irritated his healing wounds. He staggered to his feet and immediately crumpled into a heap on the floor.

“Remus? I’m coming back in.”

Remus could only moan in response. Madam Pomfrey rushed back into the room and helped him to his feet.

“Let’s give it a minute, shall we?”

“Nowhere to sit,” Remus grunted.

“Reparo,” Madam Pomfrey twirled her wand and the broken bed magically started fixing itself, shards of wood flying from across the room. Remus gratefully collapsed on the repaired bed, lacking the energy to even be impressed with the magic.

***

When Remus finally came to he was tightly tucked up in a crisp white hospital bed. He blinked in the bright light, and attempted to shield his eyes. His left arm was bandaged at the elbow, and he could feel gauze wrapped around other parts of his body. He was wearing mint striped pyjamas and his robes were folded neatly on a chair next to the bed, his wand balanced on top. The Hospital Wing had high ceilings, but Remus couldn’t see much more of the room as he was surrounded by privacy screens.

“Good afternoon Remus,” Madam Pomfrey bustled through a gap in the screens, holding a tray of food. “Are you feeling any better? You must be hungry.”

Remus nodded as she plumped up his pillows so he could sit upright, “Starving.”

“I’m not surprised, you’ve slept for hours,” Madam Pomfrey gently placed the tray on Remus’s lap. It warmed his thighs, and he smiled appreciatively at her.

“What time is it?”

“It’s just gone six.”

“Six? Six in the evening? I slept through the entire day?” Remus felt sick, “Oh God, I’ve missed all my lessons.”

“Come now, Remus,” Madam Pomfrey was an expert at striking the balance between firm and caring. “Missing a day of studies every now and then won’t set you behind.”

Remus wasn’t too sure. He already felt as though he was at a disadvantage to his peers.

“Besides,” She continued. “Three boys came looking for you at lunch. They said they were collecting homework for you, so you’ll be able to catch up in no time.”

“Three boys?”

“Yes, Potter, Black and Pettigrew. I believe they’re your housemates?”

“Oh God,” Remus felt faint. “You didn’t tell them, did you?”

Madam Pomfrey gave him a stern look as if to say _what a silly question_ , “Of course not. I sent them away, although they did object quite strongly. They were determined to see you. It’s nice you’ve got friends like that.”

Remus didn’t bother correcting her that they weren’t his friends. He didn’t have any friends. He wondered why the boys came looking for him. He got on well with Peter and he liked James, but why on _earth_ was Sirius Black there? Well, Remus thought, he and James are practically joined at the hip, so he probably just came along because he had nothing better to do.

“Eat,” Madam Pomfrey interrupted his speculating. “You’ll feel better.”

Remus obeyed, lifting a fork of pie to his mouth. It was chicken and mushroom, but it was hot and savoury, and he hadn’t eaten for nearly twenty-four hours. He had wolfed half of it down before Madam Pomfrey had even reached her office. He picked up the goblet of pumpkin juice and knocked that back, barely taking time to breathe between gulps. He attacked the remainder of the pie, and finally set his knife and fork down with a contented sigh. Although he still had a splitting headache and felt as though he would benefit greatly with some new limbs and possibly a skin graft, Madam Pomfrey was right. He did feel a little better.

She wanted to keep Remus in the Hospital Wing that night, but Remus objected as strongly as he dared. He still felt incredibly weak but argued that all he needed was some rest, and that he was capable of getting that in his dorm. Madam Pomfrey eventually relented, but didn’t seem happy about it.

“Make sure those boys don’t disturb you,” She chided as he tied up his shoes. “You’re still recovering.”

Remus managed to bite his tongue before he made a sarcastic comment.

“I’ll make sure,” He promised.

Madam Pomfrey nodded, and began to briskly strip his bed, “Off you pop then. I doubt I’ll see you until the next full moon. I’ll meet you here before sundown on 4th October.”

“Yeah,” Remus paused, fiddling with his tie. “Thank you. For everything.”

Madam Pomfrey turned and smiled sympathetically, “That’s alright. I’m here if you ever need anything.”

Remus returned her smile and walked quickly from the Hospital Wing. He wasn’t used to someone being that kind, and didn’t quite know how to react.

***

“Remus!”

“You’re back!”

“What happened to you?”

“We missed you!”

Remus had barely even placed a foot in the dormitory when James and Peter came rushing towards him, shouting excitedly.

“Oh,” Remus was rather taken aback. “Hello.”

“Oh hello to you too! Are you feeling alright?” James asked.

“We came to visit you in the Hospital Wing but Madam Pomfrey wouldn’t let us anywhere near you,” Peter added.

“Stupid old bat. She’s more like a jailor than a Healer.”

“What was wrong with you again?”

“Erm,” Remus’s heart began hammering against his chest. He couldn’t remember what excuse he gave them the night before, it was impossible to think with the boys clamouring around him.

“Bloody hell, you’re acting as if he’s just returned from war,” Sirius was leant against his four poster bed, that trademark smirk on his face. “It was just a migraine, right Remus?”

“Yeah, migraine,” Remus quickly said, feeling grateful for the first time for Sirius Black and his sarky comments.

“You feeling better now mate?” James asked.

“Oh yeah, loads. Just a bit knackered though, so—”

“Say no more,” James threw his hands up. “Come on Sirius, fancy a game of Gobstones?”

“I’m good at Gobstones!” Peter exclaimed, hurrying out of the door after the other two.

The door banged shut and Remus breathed a shaky sigh of relief.

***

When Remus awoke at what must have been the fourth time that day, it was pitch black. The sounds of heavy breathing told Remus that his housemates were in bed, and he stretched his arm towards his bedside table, reaching for his watch. He squinted at the face in the moonlight. Three-thirty in the morning. He exhaled slowly and replaced the watch, wincing as he bent his arm.

He lay for a while, staring at the red canopy of fabric on top of him. He eventually decided that he wasn’t getting back to sleep anytime soon, and slipped out of bed. He picked up one of his library books, crept out of the door and headed downstairs.

The common room was freezing and Remus eyed the fireplace. He read about a fire-making charm in _The Standard Book of Spells_ — but did he dare try it? A fire spell could go horribly wrong, and he didn’t want to burn the common room down. His toes did feel like ice though. Remus hesitated, and then pointed his wind.

“ _Incendio_.”

The fireplace roared, and the logs began crackling merrily. Remus tucked his wand into his pyjamas, feeling incredibly chuffed. He flicked through _Winogrand's Wondrous Water Plants_ , and snuggled into the corner of the sofa, letting the warmth from the fire wash over him.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed before he heard the floorboards creaking. Remus peered over the top of the sofa, and his eyes widened when he realised who was stood there.

“Sirius?”

“Burning the midnight oil?” Sirius softly padded across the room, and sank onto the sofa next to Remus.

“Couldn’t sleep. Done enough of it today,” Remus eyed the black-haired boy suspiciously. “What’re you doing out of bed?”

“I could ask you the same question.”

“I just told you. Couldn’t sleep.”

“Alright, mate, you don’t have to jump down my throat.”

The two boys sat in silence, the fire crackling in front of them.

“Did you light the fire?” Sirius eventually said.

“Yep.”

“You know a spell for it?”

“Yep.”

“Impressive.”

Remus didn’t respond and turned a page in his book. Sirius shifted so he was sat sideways on the sofa, facing Remus full on.

“Why don’t you like me, Remus?” He bluntly asked, his grey eyes shining in the darkness.

Remus was rather taken aback. He dog-eared his book and set it carefully on the sofa between them.

“Why do you think that?” Remus stalled. He had never had a conversation like this before.

“It’s not like you’re trying to hide it. You’ve been avoiding me like I’ve got Scrofungulus.”

Remus wished he brought down his copy of _Ghastly Wizarding Diseases and Their Cures_. He was still struggling with the references everyone kept making.

“It’s not that I don’t like you,” He eventually said. “I just don’t like how you treat people sometimes. Especially Peter.”

“Peter? Peter’s a wuss!”

“You’re proving my point.”

“Oh, come on Remus! I’m only joking. James and I really want to be friends with you,” It was the most earnest Sirius had ever sounded. “You’re a funny bloke, and your music taste is definitely the best in Gryffindor. Plus, we’re planning something that we reckon you can help with.”

Remus peered at Sirius, his eyes narrowed. In the gold, flickering light of the fire Sirius looked a lot younger, almost vulnerable. Instead of the rebellious, couldn’t-care-less boy who made idiotic comments at the back of the class Remus saw someone different; a boy who just wanted a friend.

“Alright,” Remus finally said. “I’ll be your friend. But only if Peter can be too.”

Sirius sighed dramatically, “Okay, fine. It’s a deal.”

Remus raised his eyebrows and Sirius’s face cracked into a grin. Remus couldn’t help but smile too.

***

Having friends was, unsurprisingly, a lot better than being alone. James seemed thrilled that Remus was spending more time with them, and Sirius stayed true to his word and befriended Peter, much to his astonishment and delight. The four boys settled into their friendship easily, laughing and joking in the common room and sitting together during lessons. For the first time in his life Remus felt a true sense of belonging, and woke up early every morning, excited for the day ahead.

James and Sirius decided they wanted to go down in history as Hogwarts greatest pranksters, and were constantly losing house points for their mischievous activities. So far, their pranks had been reasonably tame, the worst one being enchanting a loo seat to follow Snape around the castle while making toilet flushing sounds. Although he wouldn’t admit it, Remus quite enjoyed helping out with the pranks. Once someone had an idea he would rush straight to the library, researching charms and enchantments to use.

“What have we got today then?” Sirius asked one morning, spreading strawberry jam on a piece of toast.

“Potions with the Slytherins, first thing,” Peter had managed to memorise his entire timetable but still struggled to find the toilets on the second floor.

James groaned, “I’m tempted to bunk, to be honest. I’m fed up of Slughorn constantly telling everyone my family history. I get enough of that at Christmas.”

It was true that the Potions Master had a fixation on students from distinguished families. In their very first lesson Slughorn had told the disinterested Potions class all about Henry Potter, James’s grandfather. Henry had publicly condemned the Minister of Magic after he forbade the magical community from helping the Muggles who were fighting in the First World War.

“I have a sneaky feeling,” Slughorn had told the class, as though he was spilling gossip to a friend at a cocktail party. “That Henry Potter’s views were one of the main reasons why the Potters were excluded from the Sacred Twenty-Eight. He was incredibly pro-Muggle, wasn’t he James?”

James hadn’t replied, instead deciding to stare down at his cauldron, cheeks bright red. Slughorn didn’t seem to notice.

“At least he likes you though,” Peter countered, slurping his orange juice. “He doesn’t even know what my name is.”

“You need to do something memorable,” Remus told him, twirling his spoon round his sugary porridge. “Blow your cauldron up or something.”

“That shouldn’t be too difficult for Peter,” Sirius snickered. Remus shot him a look.

“Anyway, we’re supposed to be learning how to brew a Pompion Potion today,” Remus reminded James. “Thought it could help with, erm, you know—”

“What does that one do again?” Peter asked.

“Turns your head into a pumpkin,” Sirius replied. “That’s true actually, are we including it in our Halloween prank?”

“Shush!” James hissed. “We’re going for the element of surprise, it won’t work if everyone knows what we’re up to.”

Sirius just shrugged and grinned.

***

The Potions classroom was located in the dungeons of Hogwarts, near the Slytherin common room. The boys trooped down, casually bickering about their Charms homework.

“Trust me, it’s 6 inches on the locking spell and 5 inches on the unlocking charm.”

“Surely it would be 6 inches on both?”

“There’s less to say about the unlocking charm.”

“Yeah, that’s what you think Peter.”

Peter tried to land a punch but Sirius ducked out of the way, laughing.

“Oh, honestly,” They rounded a corner to see Lily Evans looking exasperated. “Are you four able to go anywhere quietly?”

“Come on, Evans, you love us really,” Sirius winked at her.

Lily scoffed and turned back to her friends.

“Come along students!” Professor Slughorn appeared at the door, merrily beckoning them inside. “The wonders of the Pompion Potion await you.”

The Gryffindors and Slytherins filed inside, taking their usual seats around the large, square room. Remus, James, Sirius and Peter started towards their normal spot at the back of the room, next to the stone basin.

“Not so fast, my eager first-years,” Slughorn boomed. “After the excitement of last week I have decided to draw up a seating plan. I thought it was wise to keep some of you separate,” He looked very pointedly at Remus and his friends.

Sirius began to object, “That wasn’t us, Professor! Maybe Snape just isn’t as good at potions as you think.”

Remus tried not to smile as he recalled the week previously. He was in charge of distracting Snape, and had levitated some of his ingredients onto the floor when he wasn’t looking. Once Snape realised something was missing and headed off to the store-cupboard, James swept past, dropping Bulbadox powder into his still brewing Cure for Boils. Snape returned to his potion, added two porcupine quills and _BANG_. The cauldron exploded. Once the wisps of smoke had cleared the Gryffindor boys fell about laughing. Snape’s face was stained a sooty, hot pink colour, his eyebrows knitted together furiously.

“Do you really expect me to believe that, Mr Black?” Slughorn shook his head, “No more complaints. Right, at the front of the class I’ll have Mr Potter sat next to Miss Abbott…”

Slughorn continued through his list. Luckily he had the sense not to pair any of the Gryffindors with the Slytherins, so Remus waited for his name to be called, unperturbed.

“Mr Lupin? I’d like you to sit here with Miss Evans. On the next table, Mr Mulciber? Where’s Mr Mulciber? Oh, there you are. I’d like you here with Miss Rosier…”

Remus stepped over to the desk and dropped his bag to the floor, sliding tentatively into his chair.

“Hi Lily.”

“Morning Remus,” Lily replied. Remus hadn’t had a chance to speak to her since the first full moon. Lily wasn’t the type to hold a grudge, but her tone was considerably less friendly than it was before.

“Look, can I speak to you? About the other night.”

“There’s nothing to say. I was just being nosy,” Lily turned her textbook the right way round and began to flick through it.

“No, you weren’t. You were just being friendly, and I behaved like a complete arsehole. There’s no excuse for it,” Remus hesitated. “I’m sorry, you didn’t deserve to be treated that way.”

Lily looked up at him, her bright green eyes sparkling. She seemed pleasantly surprised, “I really appreciate that Remus. Thank you.”

Remus offered her a tentative smile. She beamed back.

“The recipe for the Pompion Potion is on page fifty-three,” Slughorn called over the clatter of the class. “Remember to take particular note of the _direction_ of which to stir the potion. I’m looking at you, Packington.”

“It’s Pettigrew!” Remus heard Peter exasperatedly call from behind him. Slughorn took no notice.

“Right,” Lily said, sounding very business-like. “I’ll crush the Flitterby moth, would you mind grounding the bouncing bulb with the mortar?”

Remus got to work. As they were stirring the potion counter-clockwise it occurred to him how much he enjoyed working with Lily. They split the tasks evenly, and chatted amiably throughout.

Near the end of the lesson Professor Slughorn plodded over to their cauldron and peered at the orange liquid inside.

“My, my, you’ve finished already? Why, this looks perfect! Well done! Would you care to try some, Mr Lupin, to see if it has brewed successfully?”

“Er, nah, you’re alright,” Remus quickly said. He didn’t fancy having a pumpkin for the head, even if it did earn him some house points.

They packed up and drifted out of the classroom, discussing the Transfiguration alphabet. Snape was waiting outside for Lily, tapping his foot impatiently.

“Come on Lily, we’d better get going or we’ll be late for Defence Against the Dark Arts,” He said, blatantly ignoring Remus.

“I thought maybe we could walk with Remus today,” Lily smiled at him hopefully.

Snape’s face clouded, and he stepped a little closer to her, hissing, “I wouldn’t associate yourself with him if I were you. He’s so _shabby_.”

“Are you aware that I can hear you?” Remus asked, sardonically.

“Sev! Don’t be such a snob,” Lily looked appalled. “Apologise to Remus, right _now_.”

“Apologise! When he looks like a Weasley? Not a chance,” Snape couldn’t seem to help himself.

“Honestly, mate,” Remus hadn’t realised it, but he had began to speak like James and Sirius. “You’re the last person who should be criticising someone’s appearance.”

“Oh, hello dear Snivellus,” Sirius sauntered out of the classroom, followed closely by James and Peter. “You’re looking beautifully greasy today.”

“Your hair seems to defy natural laws of oiliness, how do you do it?” James added.

“Have you heard of this amazing new invention? It’s called shampoo,” Peter continued.

“Oh, for goodness sake, stop it!” Lily snapped, her cheeks tinged red.

“Come to collect your pet project, Black?” Snape sneered, “Decided to do some charity work now your family hates you?”

“ _Flipendo_!”

Snape was suddenly thrown through the air and landed in a crumpled heap on the floor.

Sirius straightened up and tucked his wand in his robes, “You leave me and my friends alone, Snape. I’m warning you.” His voice was uncharacteristically cold. He hoisted his bag further up his shoulder and swept down the corridor.

Remus exchanged a look with James. Neither of them had ever seen Sirius loose his cool like that. Usually he just insulted Snape, or worked with his friends to come up with a clever prank to annoy him. It was the first time he’d actually attacked him.

“You thugs!” Lily was furious. “All of you, you’re just as bad as each other,” She hurried over to Snape and helped him to his feet.

James seemed to snap back to reality and rushed after Sirius, shooting a worried glance at Lily as he passed her.

“Lily—” Remus began.

“Not now Remus,” Lily waved her hand at him. “I think you should go.”

“Come on, let’s get out of here,” Peter tugged at his arm. “Go and find Sirius.”

***

It didn’t take long for Peter and Remus to find their two friends. James was sat under a towering beech tree, watching as Sirius skimmed stones across the Black Lake. He turned as he heard the other two approach.

“He won’t speak to me,” James murmured as Peter plonked himself down on the grass next to him. “Snape’s said loads of arsey things before but Sirius has never let it get to him. He just went too far today.”

Remus was still stood, thinking deeply as he leant against the tree trunk.

“Go and talk to him,” Peter suddenly said.

“Who, me?” Remus blurted, confused.

“Yes, you. He seems to listen to you,” James said, his eyes still on Sirius.

“What are you on about? He doesn’t listen to me. He’s _your_ best friend,” Remus wasn’t sure why he was feeling so defensive.

James sighed resignedly, “Fine. Can’t force you to do anything.”

Remus huffed and puffed for a minute or two, and then pushed off from the trunk. He dropped his bag next to Peter and picked his way down to the bank of the lake. Sirius didn’t react as he approached him.

“Alright?” Remus casually asked.

“Alright,” Sirius replied, picking up a new stone and skimming it. It bounced off the water six times before sinking. Remus watched him skim a few more stones before he spoke again.

“Sirius? Thanks for sticking up for me,” He knew he didn’t have to say much.

“Just what mates do,” Sirius shrugged, and bent down to find some more stones. Remus waited until he had stood up before he spoke again.

“I never had a mate before I came here,” He watched him carefully. Sirius finally turned to face him, his grey eyes impossible to read.

“Me neither,” His voice was soft but he looked at Remus dead in the eye. It was almost as if something passed between them; something unspoken, something inexplicable. Remus knew in that moment that they understood each other.

“Come on,” Remus offered him a shy smile. “Fancy setting off a dung bomb outside Filch’s office?”

Sirius closed his eyes for a moment and opened them again. It was almost as if he was resetting himself. His face cracked into his usual grin and he strode up towards the beech tree, “Come on, you losers,” He called towards James and Peter. “We’ve got work to do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song info:  
> The chapter title is White Room - Cream.
> 
> Slang explanation:  
> Necked (to neck) - to finish a drink in one go  
> Bunk [off] - to skip school/play truant


	4. You've Got A Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Gryffindor boys plan and execute their first big prank at Hogwarts. Remus and Sirius bond over a peculiar record.

_When you're down and troubled_

_And you need some love and care_

_And nothing, nothing is going right_

_Close your eyes and think of me_

_And soon I will be there_

_To brighten up even your darkest night_

Remus came to with a jolt. It feels as though he’s been viciously beaten to a pulp and left to die. He whimpered and pulled himself up into a seated position, leaning his burning forehead against the scratched wall. Saying that the transformation was bad was an understatement. His memory of it was foggy, like an old dream quickly slipping away, but he knew the wolf had been agitated. It had tried to escape its prison, throwing itself against the walls of the creaking old shack, leaving Remus with the most bruises he’d ever had in his life. He knew there was no chance he could make it onto the bed, and curled up in the corner of the room, slipping into a restless sleep.

He woke up an hour or so later to Madam Pomfrey covering him with a thick woollen blanket. He yelped and tried to cover his naked, scarred body, burning with embarrassment.

“Try not to move until I’ve patched you up, dear,” She murmured, casting diagnosis spells over his body. “How are you feeling?”

“Bad. I think it’s worse during the supermoon.”

“Yes, I did wonder about that,” Madam Pomfrey squeezed his hand sympathetically. “You’ve got one more to go, and then it’s back to normal moons in December.”

Remus exhaled shakily, “Lucky me.”

Madam Pomfrey looked as though she wasn’t sure whether to smile or not, “Any cuts or gashes I should know about?”

“My calf…”

“ _Ferula_ ,” Bandages magically wrapped themselves around Remus’s leg, compressing it tightly. Madam Pomfrey retrieved his robes for him and waited outside for him to dress. When he eventually exited the room he was limping.

“Oh, Remus. Silly me, I should have thought to bring a walking stick. Hmm, let’s see. Ah!” She bent down and picked up a bit of broken bannister. “This will do for now, I think,” She tapped it with her wand and it transfigured into a gnarled walking stick.

“Thank you,” Remus said gratefully, appreciative of the support.

It took them a while to get through the passageway due to how slow Remus was moving. Madam Pomfrey kept offering to conjure a stretcher, but Remus wouldn’t hear any of it.

“Professor McGonagall has said that you are excused from your lessons today, but if you’d like to join them after lunch that’s up to you,” She told him as they reached the castle. Remus nodded in response. “Would you like me to assist you back to Gryffindor Tower?”

“I’ll be alright, thanks,” Remus said. If he was lucky, he’d be able to get about an hours sleep before the others got up. He limped all the way to the common room, up to his dormitory and finally collapsed on his bed, still fully clothed.

***

“Wakey wakey! Get up and smell the mischief!” James’s sing-song voice woke Remus with a start. There was a squeak of curtains being dragged across a rail, and Sirius and Peter groaned loudly.

“It should be illegal for you to be this happy so early in the morning,” Sirius’s muffled voice complained.

“Five more minutes,” Peter mumbled, also sounding very indistinct.

“Right. You asked for it,” James warned. There were two more loud squeaks of curtains being yanked open, and Peter and Sirius howled.

“Bloody hell James, it’s a violation to disturb at a man while he’s sleeping!” Sirius wailed.

“It’s too bright!” Peter moaned.

“Remus? You’re next,” James’s voice got louder as he approached Remus’s bed.

“I’ll meet you at lunch. I’m not going to be in lessons this morning,” Remus said, panicking. He didn’t want the boys to see him like this, not before he had a shower to wash off the blood and grime. James was stood right next to his bed, his figure silhouetted in the morning light. He must have heard the panic in Remus’s voice as he didn’t open his curtain.

“Alright. Is everything okay Remus?”

“I’m fine. I’ll see you later.”

“How come Remus gets an extra five minutes but we don’t?” Peter whined.

“Because I say so,” James sounded like a father. Well, he sounded like what a father _should_ sound like. Lyall never had never spoken to Remus like that.

“I’m going in the shower first,” Remus heard Sirius say.

“NO!” Shouted Peter and James.

The boys eventually got ready and trooped off to breakfast, bickering loudly as they left the dormitory.

Remus dozed for a couple of hours, but slipped out of bed around midday. He limped to the bathroom and went straight for the shower, dropping his robes in the laundry basket as he passed. He gingerly washed his body clean, wincing as the soap stung his cuts. Even towelling himself dry was painful as his body was covered in a layer of colourful bruises, aching whenever they were touched. As he was brushing his teeth he looked at his reflection and felt like crying out. He looked like he had been dragged through a hedge backwards, sideways and upside-down. He had a large black eye and his lip had been cut open. Bruises were blooming on his jawline, streaking down under the collar of his shirt. Remus looked exhausted, more exhausted than an eleven-year-old boy should be.

He checked his watch as he limped into the Great Hall. Lunch had only just begun, so hopefully there should still be some hot jacket potatoes left. He had missed their Flying lesson that morning, which, in Remus’s opinion, really wasn’t that much of a tragedy. There was something incredibly unsettling about sitting on a _broom_ , of all objects, hovering several meters in the air. Remus preferred having both feet firmly on the ground, thank you very much. He was so pleased with himself for missing that hellish lesson that he completely forgot about his appearance as he approached the Gryffindor table.

“Bloody hell Remus, what happened to you?” Sirius’s mouth was hanging open.

It felt as though the entire room was staring at him. He slid into his seat, his cheeks burning.

“Did someone do this to you?” James asked, looking incredibly concerned.

“Were you beaten up?” Peter’s eyes were wide with alarm.

“Do you need to go to the Hospital Wing?” Marlene McKinnon demanded. She was another Gryffindor first-year; a gangly Scottish girl with cropped blonde hair and large glasses.

“I’m fine!” Remus said. “I fell through one of the disappearing steps, that’s all.”

“You’re telling us a _step_ did this to you?” Lily asked, incredulously.

“If it was Snape just say,” Sirius growled. “We’ll get him.”

“I’m fine!” Remus assured them he picked up a jacket potato. “I just bruise really easily.”

Nobody looked convinced.

“Remus—” Lily began.

“It was the step! Can we just drop it now?” Remus said sharply. His housemates seemed to exchange a look, and then continued to eat their lunch.

***

“I mean, I dunno. It’s _alright_ , I suppose, but I thought we wanted to do something big?”

“If you think enchanting the entire school on Halloween isn’t big then I don’t really know what else to suggest.”

Remus was sat with his friends in the common room, squabbling about their upcoming prank. The wind was howling outside the window and they were sat as close to the fire as they could get, edging closer whenever a seventh year drifted off to study.

“Okay fine, it’s big, but it’s just missing something,” Sirius was sat sideways on an armchair, his legs swinging over the side. “It needs a little _je ne sais quoi_ , know what I mean?”

“No, I don’t,” Remus replied flatly, from his spot on the floor. “I don’t speak French.”

“How about Italian? _Non so che cosa_?”

“Sorry, my Governess forgot to teach me any languages,” Remus said sarcastically, looking up from his book.

Sirius rolled his eyes and grinned down at Remus, “Alright, make fun of the Pureblood boy for having to learn four different languages from the age of three.”

“Four languages? You can speak four languages?” Asked Peter, looking impressed. He was playing a very intense game of Wizards Chess with James.

“French, Italian, Spanish and Latin,” Sirius checked off his fingers. “Once you know Latin everything else is pretty easy.”

“That’s what you get when you’re born into the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, init?” James said, scowling at the chess board.

“ _Toujours Pur_ , mate, _Toujours Pur_.”

“Right, whatever,” Remus interrupted, feeling impatient. “Halloween is in one week and you don’t think our prank is gonna be, what, fancy enough?”

“It’s the flair that’s we’re lacking,” Sirius mused, closing his eyes and placing his fingertips together. “We’re turning everyone’s heads into pumpkins, but so what? Everyone knows how to make that potion, except maybe Peter, so it’s not going to be that impressive, is it?”

“Oi!” Peter cried indignantly. “I’m not _that_ bad at Potions.”

“Well there you go. Even _Peter_ knows how to make the potion. We need something more exciting.”

“Oh! I think I’ve got an idea,” James finally looked up from the chess board, his brown eyes shining. “Pumpkin heads can be the red herring for the actual prank.”

“What’s the actual prank going to be then?” Peter asked, tilting his head.

“Oh, my dear Pete, that is going to blow your mind.”

“Hmm… Checkmate.”

“You _arse_!”

***

Remus had gone upstairs to the dormitory. He had finished all his homework, still finding learning about the wizarding world very exciting, and fancied listening to a couple of records before bed. James had demanded a rematch as he was convinced that there was foul play in the chess game, so Remus was able to slip away quietly.

He had piled his records on the highest shelf, so was on his tip-toes as he peered at his collection, trying to decide what to listen to. He eventually picked a record and tugged it out, his long fingers deftly sliding the vinyl out of the sleeve. He placed the disc on the turntable, lowered the needle and lay back on his bed.

The record player clicked softly and Carole King’s _Tapestry_ began to play. Her raw, intimate lyrics washed over Remus, and her clear voice and comforting music felt as though they were being played specifically to him. He closed his eyes and let himself be transported to Carole’s dreamy world.

The door of the dormitory creaked open while _Way Over Yonder_ was playing, and Remus sat up quickly, cheeks bright red. It was embarrassing to be caught listening to such an emotional album, and he rushed over to the record player, pulling the needle off the disc.

“Don’t worry about that. I don’t mind what you listen to,” Of course it was Sirius Black.

“Sorry, I don’t know why I was listening to that girly rubbish,” Remus said gruffly, not meeting Sirius’s eye.

“I’ll let you in on a secret,” Sirius moved closer to Remus. He was aware that Sirius’s grey eyes were boring into him, but he refused to look up. “I’m partial to a bit of Carole.”

Remus shoved Sirius’s shoulder, “Don’t take the piss.”

“I’m not! The B side is better, in my opinion. _You’ve Got A Friend_ always makes me feel so… Well, it’s a good song,” This time Sirius was the one to avoid eye contact.

“I can flip the record if you want?” Remus asked shyly.

“Yeah. That would be nice actually.”

Remus turned the record over and lowered the needle. He awkwardly walked back to his bed and looked up at Sirius.

“You just gonna stand in the middle of the room then?”

“Oh,” Sirius looked like he wasn’t sure where to go.

Remus sighed, “Come sit here.” He patted his bed. Sirius hesitated, then clambered on, sitting as far away from Remus as he possibly could on a single bed. Remus leant against the headboard with his knees up towards his chest as Sirius shifted so he was lying horizontally across the bed, his legs dangling towards the floor.

The two boys stayed in that position until the last few notes of _Natural Woman_ echoed and faded around the room. The turntable slowly stopped spinning, and the needle clicked back into place.

Remus didn’t want to move. It was weirdly comforting to sit with Sirius near his feet, like a giant dog. He could still hear the hum of noise in the common room below, and the steady sound of Sirus’s breathing. He didn’t want to say anything, worried that it would break the spell. He wasn’t sure how long they were sat like that, but in the end it didn’t matter as the dormitory door banged open, making them both jump.

“I don’t know how, but Peter’s definitely cheating at Wizard’s Chess,” James announced, stalking into the room.

“I’m not cheating! You just can’t handle the fact that I’m finally better than you at something,” Peter looked incredibly pleased with himself, his cheeks rosy.

Sirius moved so quickly Remus had to question if he was ever on his bed in the first place. He leant across the stove in the middle of the room and grinned at James.

“I suppose Peter’s got to have _something_ in his repertoire, right?”

“You’re just in denial,” Peter continued proudly. “I’m the King of Wizard’s Chess! I wonder if there’s a club I can join...”

Remus didn’t say anything, replaying the past half an hour in his head. There was one thing for sure, Remus still didn’t really know who Sirius Black was.

***

“Right then lads, we ready?”

“Ready.”

“Ready!”

“Hang on a second!”

“Oh come _on_ Peter. We’ve had plenty of practice, and—”

“I know what I’m doing! It’s just my shoelace, it’s come undone.”

Peter dropped to the floor and started tying up his trailing shoelaces. Sirius looked exasperatedly at Remus and James.

“Absolutely shambolic,” James shook his head. “Don’t you double-knot your laces?”

“He probably only learnt how to tie his laces a year ago, double-knotting is probably beyond his skillset.”

“Sirius!” Remus shoved him. “You’re this close to being kicked off the prank.”

Sirius looked incredibly amused, “Oh yeah? You the boss then?”

“Looks like it,” Remus drew himself to his full height, which was a couple of precious centimetres above Sirius. “Got a problem with that?”

Sirius held eye contact for a moment and then laughed, “Alright then, Boss. You nearly done down there Peter?”

“Done!” Peter stood up and stumbled and Remus reached out to steady him. “Oof. Got up too quickly. Blood rushed to my head.”

“Bloody hell, some gang of pranksters we are,” James laughed.

“Focus just for a second, please,” Remus said, with some authority. “I’ve invested the most amount of time into this prank, Merlin knows why, and I don’t want it to all have been in vain! Is everyone clear on what they have to do?”

“Yes Remus,” Chorused the other three boys.

“Great. We’ll meet back in the Great Hall in an hour, reckon that’ll give us enough time?”

“Remus, relax! We’ll be fine. Nobody will know it’s us,” James told him reassuringly.

“Merlin forbid Remus spoils his good-boy image,” Sirius said, smirking.

“I don’t want to get in trouble either,” Peter said, backing his friend up.

“We’re wasting time!” Remus exclaimed.

“Right-o Boss. Battle stations!” James cried as he darted towards the portrait hole. “See you chaps in an hour, good luck!”

“Peter, you remember what Frank said about getting into the kitchens?” Remus asked, turning to the blonde boy.

“Tickle the pear?”

“Bang on. Make sure to take care of that cloak, James’ll kill you if anything happens to it.”

Peter nodded, and clutched his bag protectively. “I won’t muck this up,” He said confidently. Remus grinned at him as he clambered through the portrait hole.

“Can’t believe Peter ended up being the one to use the Invisibility Cloak,” Sirius moaned.

“I’m sure you’ll get plenty of opportunities to use it,” Remus replied, thinking back to the night that James told them about his family heirloom.

They had been playing Exploding Snap on the floor of their dormitory, finalising the last few details of their prank. Frank Longbottom had helpfully told Remus how to get into the kitchens, but had a wise word of warning before Remus hurried off to tell his friends.

“He told me that the house-elves won’t let us touch any of the food going up. Apparently they can get really funny if you try to mess with them,” Remus relayed to the boys.

“So, that’s the prank done for then,” Sirius sighed. “If we can’t get the potion into the pumpkin juice then there’s no point in doing the rest of it.”

“Apparently there’s over a hundred house-elves so it’s not even as though we’d be able to distract them,” Remus shrugged and put a card down. “It’s not the end of the world, we’ll just have to come up with something else.”

“Something else! We’ve been planning this for weeks!” Peter exclaimed, looking devastated. “Those spells were really difficult.”

“What choice do we have?” Remus asked. “Realistically.”

James was being rather quiet.

“Got any ideas James?” Sirius asked. “This _was_ your plan.”

“I wasn’t sure if I was going to show it to you lads this early on, but I think it’s finally time,” James said, raking his hand through his untidy hair.

“Show us what?” Peter demanded.

“What are you on about mate?” Sirius looked slightly offended that there was something he didn’t know about James.

James stood up and made his way over to his bedside table, “It’s been in my family for generations. Dad got it from my granddad, and he got it from his dad, and so on. I didn’t even realise it existed until this summer when Dad gave it to me. He said I’d get more use out of it at Hogwarts than he would. I didn’t really know what he was on about at first, but now I think I do.”

“You’re not making any sense,” Sirius told him.

James reached into his bottom draw and pulled out a large silvery bit of fabric.

“Is that it?” Peter remarked. “Your family heirloom is a musty old robe?”

Instead of explaining, James simply grinned crazily at them and twirled the fabric around himself. The boys blinked and he was gone.

Sirius leapt up and started bounding around like a madman, “James Fleamont Potter. You’re pulling my wand! Why didn’t you say before? This can’t be real, I can’t believe my eyes!”

“What in the name of Merlin is going on?” Peter muttered to Remus.

“Absolutely no idea,” Remus murmured back.

Sirius had started prancing around the room, swinging his arms into the air like he was trying to catch something.

“Where’s James gone?” Remus asked, feeling as though he was missing something really obvious.

Sirius finally turned and looked at Remus and Peter with a slightly crazed look in his grey eyes, “Our most dear friend has an Invisibility Cloak.”

“You’re joking,” Remus’s mouth fell open. He had read about Invisibility Cloaks in one of his books, and had understood that they were an incredibly rare and expensive bit of magical kit.

“James! You son of a bludger, take it off! I want to have a proper look at it,” Sirius had decided to address the wall next to his bed.

“BOO!” A voice in Remus’s ear shouted and James’s disembodied head suddenly appeared next to him. Remus jumped about a foot in the air.

“Bloody hell James! If you do that again I’m going to throttle you in your sleep,” Remus scowled.

“That’s brilliant,” Peter said, coming over for a closer look. “I never thought I’d see one of these in real life.”

“So, do you think this will solve our kitchen problem?” James asked, his grin almost reaching his ears.

“Oh mate. This is solving problems we don’t even have yet,” Sirius had responded, stroking the cloak in admiration. “This completely changes the game.”

“Earth to Remus?” Sirius waved a hand in front of Remus’s face. “You’ve just had a go at all of us for not focusing on the prank and here you are, daydreaming like a girl.”

“Right, yes, sorry,” Remus shook himself. “I’m going to the East Wing, you’re going to the West?”

“No, I’m going East and you’re going West.”

“Oh, sorry… Wait, are you sure?”

“Nah I’m just pulling your wand. You’re right; you’re East and I’m West.”

“Right. See you in an hour.”

Sirius grinned at him, “In an hour, Boss.”

Remus ducked through the portrait hole and made his way to the East Wing. There were over thirty suits of armour that needed enchanting, and the complex spell meant it wasn’t something he could do in a hurry. He approached each suit of armour individually, squeezing his eyes shut to focus before murmuring the incantation. It was nearly half an hour until he was satisfied with his spell-casting, and quickly made his way to the Great Hall for the Halloween Feast.

At Hogwarts, Halloween was taken incredibly seriously. The ceiling still had its usual enchantment to look like the sky above but someone — Professor Flitwick, most likely — had charmed hundreds of carved pumpkins to float above their heads, with screeching bats flitting here and there. There were even more carved pumpkins sat all along the four tables and on the floor, filled to the brim with blood-flavoured lollipops, ice mice, chocolate cauldrons and skeleton sweets. A giant spider-web was hanging from the entrance to the hall, and Remus walked straight into it on his way in. He pulled bits of silken thread out of his curls as he made his way over to Peter, who was sat in their usual spot, beaming.

“You manage to get the potion in?” Remus asked.

“Yep! Took a bit longer than I thought, you wouldn’t believe the amount of jugs they have down there,” Peter’s cheeks were rosy with excitement. “Did you enchant all the suits of armour?”

“Yeah, just about. Just got to do the final charm when the time’s right,” Remus looked down the table. “James and Sirius not here yet?”

Peter shook his head, “Nah, I thought they’d come in with you?”

“I haven’t seen them since we left the common room.”

“Hopefully they haven’t run into any trouble.”

“Who’s running into trouble?” A female voice asked. Peter and Remus’s heads snapped up to see Mary McDonald and Sakiya Abbott. They were Gryffindor first-years; two giggly girls who were rarely seen apart.

“Please don’t tell me you’re up to something,” Mary continued, sitting down opposite Remus. “Actually wait; please _do_ tell me you’re up to something. Let me in on the secret!”

“We’re not up to anything,” Remus said, rather shortly. He still wasn’t sure what he thought about girls.

Sakiya scoffed. She was tall for her age, and had long, sleek black hair that reached her elbows. She was one of the cleverest in their year, having gone to the Mahoutokoro School of Magic for four years before Hogwarts. “Where’s James and Sirius then? You four are usually joined at the hip.”

Remus thought this was pretty rich coming from the girl who couldn’t even go to the toilet without asking her friend to come with her, but decided to hold his tongue.

“Probably finishing some homework,” Remus tried to shrug casually. He looked at Peter, hoping he’d provide some backup, but he wasn’t paying any attention. While Remus felt a bit uncertain around girls, Peter definitely know how he felt — scared. He was currently pretending to sort through his bag, although the only items in it were a now-empty glass bottle and James’s invisibility cloak.

“Oh yeah? I’ll believe that when I see it,” Mary laughed. She was quite a short girl, with a sweet, round face and a mane of unruly curls.

“When’s this feast starting then?” Sakiya asked. “I’m absolutely starving!”

“Er, no clue,” Remus craned his neck, looking towards the entrance to the Great Hall. If the boys were late then the whole prank would be ruined. Suddenly an awful thought occurred to him, and he turned to murmur to Peter. “What do we do if they’ve been caught?”

Peter stopped rooting around in his bag and looked at Remus fearfully, “Oh Merlin, I don’t know. Will they tell on us, do you think?”

“Peter, do you know them at all? Of course they won’t tell. That’s not what I’m worried about though,” Remus muttered. “What if—”

“There they are!” Peter exclaimed joyfully.

Remus looked up to see Sirius and James gallivanting towards the table, both baring their teeth in huge grins.

“Well?” Remus said expectantly, as they approached the table.

“Smashed it,” James said.

“Piece of cake,” Sirius added.

“Wait — were you being serious about them doing their homework?” Mary looked shocked. “I can’t believe my ears.”

“Deadly serious," Remus said, while James and Sirius raised their eyebrows in confusion behind the girls backs.

“Are you two going to stand for the whole feast?” A familiar voice asked.

“Oh, sorry Evans,” James quickly sat down on the bench, looking a little flustered.

Lily tutted and sat down next to him, turning to speak to Sakiya.

“Watch out, I’m going over,” Sirius announced.

“What?” Lily asked, looking alarmed.

Sirius grinned at his housemates, rolled his sleeves up and clambered over the table, his robes swinging into everyones faces. He jumped to his feet on the other side, smoothened down his hair and triumphantly sat next to Remus. Everyone stared.

“Couldn’t you have just walked to the end of the table like a normal person?” Mary asked.

“Nah, that’s boring,” Sirius waved his hand in what he must have imagined to be a breezy manner. “Where’s this food then?”

“Good question,” Sakiya said.

“Has anyone seen Marlene?” Lily asked. “She was supposed to—”

“Good evening everyone, and Happy Halloween!” Dumbledore suddenly boomed. The Great Hall fell silent. “I’ll keep this short and sweet as I for one cannot wait to begin the feast!”

He clapped his hands, and just like the Welcome Feast, the tables were suddenly laden with food.

“He wasn’t joking when he said he’d keep it short, eh?” James laughed.

“Anyone want some pumpkin juice?” Sirius asked, brandishing the jug like a waiter.

Remus shot him a warning look, but Sirius merely winked in response. The girls held their goblets up and Sirius poured the orange liquid out, smirking at James across the table.

“How long will it take to work?” Peter whispered.

“Couple of minutes?” Remus murmured. “Come on, drink up, otherwise it’ll be obvious.”

“Cheers lads,” James said, and the four friends clinked their goblets together and threw the contents down their throats.

Sirius was practically bouncing in his seat. “You have no idea how excited I am,” He told Remus.

Remus laughed, “I think I’ve got a pretty good idea.”

“Look!” Peter suddenly blurted out. “Hufflepuff’s table.”

Everyone looked over and sure enough, bright orange pumpkin heads were sprouting all the way down the hall. Sirius cackled gleefully, James began to snigger and Peter snorted rather loudly. Remus allowed himself a small smile. More and more students heads started turning into pumpkins, and the casual chatter began to descend into panicked shrieking.

“Has someone seriously used a Pompion Po-” Lily began, but was unable to finish her sentence as her head turned into a pumpkin.

“Quickly! Do the spell now!” Remus hissed, knowing it was only a matter of time until he and his friends turned orange.

“ _Piertotum Locomotor_ ,” The four boys murmured together, each gripping their wand tightly.

“See you on the other side,” Sirius managed to wink just before there was a gentle _pop_ and his head too became a pumpkin.

Remus felt his head buzzing, and braced himself. Having his body transform into something else was a familiar sensation, but that didn’t mean it was an enjoyable one. There was a _pop_ , as soft as a bubble bursting, and suddenly his vision was tinted orange. He reached his hands up and felt the smooth knobbles of the pumpkin that now encased his head. He knew it wouldn’t be long until one of the professors reversed the spell, and watched the rest of the school in amusement as they ran around in hysteria.

“ _Finite Incantatem_ ,” Dumbledore’s voice boomed, and Remus’s vision was suddenly restored. “I see that someone decided to use a Melofors Jinx on the whole school! Although it is rather apt for the occasion, the culprits will be chastised. Please continue the feast.”

“Bloody hell that was weird,” James said, patting his face. “My head is smaller now, right?”

“No, it’s actually bigger now its back to normal,” Lily said drily.

“What on earth just happened? Did the house-elves spike our food?” Mary asked, peering closely at her plate.

“House-elves? Nah, I reckon the culprit is more human sized,” Sakiya said, narrowing her eyes at the boys.

“Us? How could we have done that?” Sirius asked, looking hurt.

“I’ve got no idea how you did it,” Lily said. “But it was definitely you lot.”

“Evans! You have such a low opinion of us,” James exclaimed.

“Why do you think that is? You’re constantly—" Lily stopped speaking and tilted her head to the side. "Hang on, can anyone hear that?” 

Remus placed his knife and fork on his plate and strained his ears. Sure enough, there was a faint sound of clanking in the far distance. He exchanged a look with James, who was clearly struggling not to smile. The clanking got louder and louder, until most of the students were peering around the Great Hall, looking incredibly confused.

“Merlin’s beard!” Marlene came skidding towards their table. “You wouldn’t believe what’s happening all over the castle.”

“What is it?” Mary asked.

“It’s the—”

Marlene was interrupted by loud gasps and shouts. Everyone turned to stare at the entrance of the Great Hall, where rows upon rows of suits of armour were stood at attention.

“What on earth is going on?” Lily exclaimed.

There was an air of anticipation, and even the professors at the top of the hall seemed curious about what was going to happen next. Remus, Sirius and Peter were the only people in the room who weren’t looking towards the entrance. Instead, they were focused on James, who gave a curt nod. The boys murmured another incantation, and the suits of armour suddenly sprang to life, raising their arms straight in front of them, and stumbling forwards like zombies.

Students began to laugh as the the zombie suits of armour staggered between each of the long tables, low moans echoing from the empty gap in their helmets. The suits of armour paraded all over the Great Hall, doing what Remus thought was a wonderful impression of the undead. They stumbled around, swinging their arms near students and tripping over pumpkins on the ground. Several students roared with laughter as one suit of armour trod in a pumpkin, and continued to lurch forward with the pumpkin stuck to his foot.

“ _Finite Incantatem_ ,” Dumbledore bellowed for the second time that night. The suits of armour fell to the ground with a loud clatter, and an audible sigh of disappointment rumbled through the hall.

“I can now see we have some form of marauders in our midst. Rest assured that the students who played these jokes tonight will _not_ go unpunished. Still, I am glad to know that the Halloween spirit has not been lost on our new students,” Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled.

“He knows it was us!” Peter wailed. “We’re done for.”

“Shut up, Peter,” Remus hissed, glancing worriedly at his other housemates.

“Please continue your feast, I am sure we will now be able to complete it in peace,” Dumbledore finished, sitting back down in his pointed chair.

Chatter resumed instantly in the Great Hall and everyone picked up their knives and forks, ready to start eating again.

“Did you hear what he said?” Sirius demanded, his grey eyes glittering.

“Yep. We’re going to be in detention until Christmas,” Remus replied glumly.

“No! Not about that. The marauder bit.”

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” James asked, leaning over the table.

“Oh Jamesy, you’ve read my mind.”

Remus tried to ignore that irritating twist in his stomach, “What are you on about now?” He asked, suddenly feeling tired.

“I do believe we’ve finally come up with a name for our gang,” Sirius smirked.

“Are we in a gang?” Peter asked, his eyes wide.

“We’re going to be called the Marauders,” James grinned.

“The Marauders?”

“The Marauders. What do you think, Remus?”

Remus looked at his friend. He could hear the clatter of knives and forks, and excited chatter about who was behind the pranks. Lily was telling Marlene about how complex the spell must have been to enchant so many suits of armour at once, and Sakiya and Mary were still giggling about the one who trod in the pumpkin. Just down the table, Frank Longbottom was shaking his head at Remus, a wry smile plastered on his face. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Filch stood with a broom, staring in dismay at the piles of armour on the ground.

“Yeah,” Remus eventually said, a smile slowly spreading across his face. “We’re the Marauders.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song info:  
> The chapter title is You've Got A Friend - Carole King  
> Tapestry [album]- Carole King.


	5. My Christmas Card To You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Marauders celebrate Christmas at Hogwarts.

_To you and all your family, your neighbours and your friends_

_May all your days be happy with a joy that never ends_

_May peace and love surround you_

_At Christmas time and all the whole year through_

The Marauders were on such a high after their successful Halloween prank that even their detentions that ran all the way to Christmas didn’t dampen their spirits. Despite spending evening after evening scrubbing cauldrons and polishing trophies (all by hand, of course) the next two months seemed to fly by in a blur. James and Sirius would sneak out under the Invisibility Cloak every now and then to blow up a toilet or let off a dung-bomb, but Remus preferred pranks that were a little more subtle. Pranks that left people guessing who were behind them and how they pulled them off were the best. One of his favourite pranks was a complex enchantment that caused every other portrait in the school to hiss like snakes whenever a Slytherin student walked past. “It’s harmless, but hilarious,” Remus told his friends, who were in hysterics after Snape had a go at Sir Cadogan, who was utterly oblivious to what was going on.

Remus missed Sirius’s twelfth birthday as it fell the day after a full moon. He had begged Madam Pomfrey to let him out of the Hospital Wing in the morning, worried that his friends would question his absence, but she wouldn’t hear it. She knew about their Halloween prank, and seemed to think his friends were a bad influence on him. Remus thought it best not to let her know the truth; that he was the brain behind some of their best pranks.

December finally slunk around the corner and announced itself to the world, bringing with it frost, cold nights and Christmas. Hogwarts transformed with the festivities; giant evergreen wreathes of holly, cinnamon sticks, pine cones and dried oranges adorned every door, and towering Christmas trees were squished into every corner of the castle. Remus loved how the classrooms and corridors smelt -the rich scent of pine, ginger and chestnuts invaded his delicate senses and somehow reminded him of home, although he couldn’t imagine why. Lyall never really felt like celebrating Christmas, so it was a rather dull affair in their house. There were even sprigs of mistletoe hanging from a couple of archways near the Great Hall and Remus always took great care to avoid the space beneath. He thought it was incredibly unlikely that anyone would try to kiss him, but he just didn’t want to risk it. In the Gryffindor common room someone had enchanted rows upon rows of paper chains to hang unsuspended in the air above their heads, and they had their own Christmas tree, adorned with red and gold decorations. Unfortunately, the other thing that December brought in 1971 was not just one, but two full moons.

The first December transformation was awful, and Madam Pomfrey had forced him to stay in the Hospital Wing for two nights due to how wretched he was when she went to fetch him. He had managed to break two ribs and had fresh scars criss-crossing his back, meaning it was impossible to get a comfortable nights sleep.

“I’ve done some more reading, and the consensus that most books come to is that you shouldn’t fight the transformations,” She had said as he got ready to leave for breakfast two days later. Remus raised his eyebrows.

“What, should I get excited whenever the full moon comes around?” He asked incredulously. “Lie in that shack thinking ‘oh yippee, can’t wait for this one’?”

Madam Pomfrey gave him a sharp look, “No, of course not. There’s just a lot of research to suggest that the more relaxed you are prior to the full moons, the easier the transformation will be. You may even be able to bounce back quicker the next day.”

“Right. It’s just a bit hard to relax when your entire body feels like it’s being ripped apart,” Remus snapped. He hated how he was speaking to her, but he still felt so exhausted.

“It’s just an idea. I’ll have a think about it,” Madam Pomfrey seemed unaffected by Remus’s tone. “Will I be seeing you at the end of the month?”

“Oh,” Remus hadn’t even thought about going home for Christmas. “I’m not sure.”

“Perhaps you should have a word with your father about his plans. Don’t worry about telling me, I’ll know where you end up,” If anyone else were to say something like that they would seem a little creepy, but from Madam Pomfrey it sounded incredibly reassuring.

“Okay,” Remus grabbed his bag, and made his way to the door. “See you.”

“Have a good Christmas, Remus.”

“Yeah, you too.”

***

Remus reached for a slice of toast, his mind lost in thought. He hadn’t heard from his father since he left him in Kings Cross station over three months ago. Even if Remus wanted to get into contact with him, he wasn’t sure if he would be able to. He wondered if his father would still be moving about or if he’d settled down, now that he didn’t have to live in fear of neighbours discovering his son’s secret. Remus was so engrossed in his thoughts that he didn’t even notice his friends approaching him.

“Alright Remus? Can’t believe we lost you to the Hospital Wing again,” James said as he sat down. His hair was as unruly as ever and his tie was loose around his neck.

“Could’ve really done with your help yesterday! We tried to charm Snape’s robes to look like Father Christmas, but he noticed as soon as we had drawn our wands,” Peter said forlornly.

“What was wrong with you this time?” Sirius asked, rather shortly.

“Just had the winter flu,” Remus sniffed loudly, as if to prove his point. “All better now though!”

Sirius watched him through narrowed eyes. Remus tried not to panic, and poured himself another glass of orange juice.

“Ah, post's here,” James said, looking up at the ceiling.

Every morning owls came swooping down carrying post for the students. There was always an owl for James; they carried letters and treats from his parents and his subscriptions to the Daily Prophet and Seeker Weekly. Peter had owls too, dropping incredibly long letters from family members on his head, which he briefly read and then left on his bedside table, asking everyone to remind him to send a reply. Even Lily got a little pile of letters every now and then, and would check the back of every envelope before opening it, as if searching for a particular sender. She always looked slightly heartbroken after looking at the final envelope, but Remus didn’t think it was his place to ask why.

Out of everyone sat at the Gryffindor table, Remus and Sirius were the only ones who didn’t get any post. During the first week of term Sirius had received letters every single day but hadn’t bothered to open them, instead throwing them onto the fire in the common room and watching them burn. The sender must have realised that Sirius was ignoring the letters, and after a while the correspondence stopped completely. Although Sirius had never spoken about it with Remus, he understood that the boy had a somewhat tricky relationship with his family. James, however, seemed to know all about it. The two boys would often creep into each others beds late at night and whisper for hours. Remus was never invited to join these conversations, and he tried hard to not let it bother him.

He jumped as a letter landed on his plate. He picked it up and suspiciously inspected the envelope. His name was written in messy handwriting on the front. It was definitely for him. Remus picked up a clean knife and used it to open the envelope, pulling out a sheet of lined paper scribbled on in biro.

_Remus,_

_I hope that you are well and are enjoying your lessons at Hogwarts._

~~ _I’ve moved to the Peak District because_ ~~

_I have moved to the Peak District and will be here for the foreseeable. You can find the address on the reverse of this letter._

_It is your own decision whether you would like to spend Christmas at Hogwarts._

_Your Father, Lyall._

Remus stared at the wrinkled sheet of paper in his hands, his face expressionless. He eventually scoffed and stuffed the letter back in the envelope.

“Who was that from?” Sirius asked. Remus looked up and realised, with a start, that he was staring at him. He wondered how long those grey eyes had been on him.

“My dad,” Remus tossed him the envelope. “You can read it if you want.”

Sirius picked up the letter and read it quickly. He glanced up at Remus, put the letter in the envelope and passed it back. He waited a moment before speaking again, “What are you going to do then?”

“Probably just stay here. It was hardly an invitation to go for Christmas dinner, was it?” Remus tried not to sound bitter.

“He gave you the address,” Sirius pointed out. “I’m sure you’re welcome.”

“Yeah, well,” Suddenly Remus didn’t want to speak about it anymore, and looked away. Hopefully Sirius would take the hint.

“Right then lads, what do you fancy doing today?” James interrupted, rubbing his hands together. “Fancy looking for some more secret passages?”

“Now you’re talking!” Sirius exclaimed. “Can we use the cloak?”

“Well, if you like. We don’t really have to, it is the weekend—”

“Perfect, we’ll use the cloak then.”

Remus caught Peter’s eye and smirked. Sirius was obsessed with James’s Invisibility Cloak, and was always coming up with reasons to use it.

“Come on, what are we waiting for?” Sirius jumped up and grinned at his friends. “Got mischief to manage, haven’t we?”

***

“I just don’t get why anyone would want to brew a Forgetfulness Potion in the first place.”

“Because, Peter, some people aren’t as naturally forgetful as you.”

“I’m not forgetful, I just get distracted easily!”

The Gryffindors were filing out of the Potions classroom after an incredibly dull two hour lesson. It was the last day of term, and nobody had been paying much attention as Slughorn droned on about how James’s dad made his fortune by inventing a hair potion. Peter and Sirius were bickering as usual, and Remus bid Lily goodbye before hurrying to join his friends.

“You enjoying being partners with Evans?” James asked, a slight tone in his voice.

“She’s alright,” Remus shrugged.

A tall, slim girl began striding towards the Marauders. She was a few years older than them, and had long, painstakingly straight blonde hair, high cheekbones and pale skin. Her blue eyes were narrowed, and her lips were slightly pursed. She had a faint expression of disgust on her face, ruining what would have been rather pretty facial features. Attached to her robes was a shiny silver badge with the letter P engraved in it.

“Sirius,” She announced as she reached the boys. “You’ve been avoiding me.” The girl had a posh, clipped voice, one that Remus now recognised as high-class Pureblood.

“Avoiding you? Why, Cissy, do you really think I would do such a thing?” Sirius mimicked her posh accent. Remus vaguely wondered if that was Sirus’s native tongue. Ever since getting to Hogwarts Sirius had sounded similar to James; still speaking with some posh undertones, but using more slang.

“I don’t have time for you to be childish,” The girl snapped. “Can we talk in private? I don’t want to be overheard by _them_.” The girl indicated with her head to where Remus, James and Peter were stood. She enunciated the last word with such disgust that they may well have been maggots writhing on the floor.

“They’re my mates,” Sirius said, dropping the posh-boy accent. “If you’ve got something to say to me, you can say it in front of them.”

“I really do _not_ think that is wise,” The blonde girl hissed, her cheeks reddening. “Come to the Slytherin common room and we can talk there.”

“I wouldn’t be seen dead in the Slytherin common room, and you know it,” Sirius snarled.

“This is precisely why we need to speak. Your mother—”

“Say one word about my mother and I’ll hex you,” Sirius drew his wand and held it threateningly to the girl’s face. James grabbed Sirius’s arm but he pulled free from his grasp. The girl sneered.

“Grow up, Sirius. You wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh yeah? You’ve not got Malfoy to protect you now.”

“I can protect myself. Not that I would need to, you’re only a first-year.”

“So what? Want to try your luck?”

The girl held gaze with Sirius for a moment, and then she sighed, her voice softening slightly, “You’re slipping away from us, Sirius.”

“Good. You’re the last people I want to be associated with.”

The girl’s face changed, as if she had caught scent of a nasty smell, “I believe you should reevaluate your own acquaintances before you question your family.”

Sirius’s face darkened, “This is your last warning, Narcissa. Leave me alone or I _will_ hex you.”

The girl looked at Sirius one last time and finally turned away.

“The time is coming, Sirius, where you will have to choose a side. I only hope for your sake that you make the correct decision,” She called over her shoulder as she gracefully strode away.

“I’ve already picked my side,” Sirius shouted as she disappeared down the corridor. “And I know for a fact that it’s the right one!”

“Yikes,” James said, running his hand through his hair. “That was intense.”

“You’re telling me,” Sirius slumped against the wall of the corridor, looking worn.

“Who was that?” Peter asked.

“Narcissa, my darling cousin. Just another one of my mother’s sheepdogs.”

“Come on, let’s get out of here. Bad things always seem to happen in this corridor,” Remus gently said. “How do you feel about listening to some records after dinner?”

Sirius looked up at Remus and smiled. It wasn’t a smirk, or a grin, but a genuine smile. Remus felt a sudden wave of pity and understanding for the black-haired boy, and smiled back.

***

“Just don’t do anything we wouldn’t do Remus.”

“That leaves me with quite a catalogue of things, so I reckon I’ll be fine.”

Remus was stood by the Great Hall, saying goodbye to his friends before they left to go home for Christmas. Most of the students had left already for the train, but the Marauders were hanging back.

“We’ll be back in two weeks! The time will fly by, honestly,” Peter reassured Remus.

“I’ll be fine! It’ll be nice to get a bit of peace and quiet, away from you lot,” Remus teased.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come and spend Christmas with my lot?” James asked for the umpteenth time. “Mum says you’re more than welcome.”

Remus smiled at his friend, “Don’t get me wrong, James, I really do appreciate it but I’d rather just stay here.”

“Come on, we better get going or we’ll miss the train,” Sirius gave his trunk a swift kick to get it rolling.

“Merry Christmas Remus! See you next year,” Peter called.

“Merry Christmas to you too,” Remus replied, watching Sirius throw his scarf over his shoulder and Peter ram his knit hat on his head as they headed out into the bitter cold.

Remus made his way back to the common room, humming gently to himself. Chuck Berry’s _You Never Can Tell_ had been stuck in his head all day, for whatever reason, and now all Remus wanted to do was to sing it out loud. He reached the staircase, peered around, and once he was satisfied that nobody was near he began singing very softly under his breath.

“ _It was a teenage wedding, and the old folks wished them well_

_You could see that Pierre did truly love the mademoiselle_

_And now the young monsieur and madame have rung the chapel bell_

_‘C'est la vie’, say the old folks, it goes to show you never can_ —”

“Alright, Remus?”

“Bloody _hell!_ ” Remus nearly put his foot through the vanishing step. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Frank Longbottom grinned, “Thought that the fact I’m Head Boy might mean I’m allowed to be in the school?”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that,” Remus hoped he wasn’t going red. They began climbing the stairs together, heading for the common room. “How come you’re not going home for Christmas?”

“Mum gets a bit mental ‘round Christmas, it’s always best to steer clear. Besides, it’s my last year at Hogwarts! You end up feeling quite sentimental about this funny old castle. Alice is staying too, so it’s quite nice we’ve got, er, a bit of time together,” Remus nodded in what he hoped was a sage way. “What about you? Surely you’re not the only one staying, where are your mates?”

“They’ve gone home. It’s just me,” Remus told him.

“Ah,” Frank seemed to understand. “Still good fun at Hogwarts anyway, just you wait until Christmas dinner!”

“Can’t wait.”

“Password?” The Fat Lady asked as they approached.

“Mistletoe.”

The portrait swung forward and Remus and Frank clambered through.

“There you are!” Alice was curled up on the sofa with a copy of _Spellman's Syllabary_ open on her lap. She shook her strawberry blonde curls out of her eyes and smiled. “Fancy a trip down to the kitchens? I could do with a mince pie.”

“Now you’re talking!” Frank held out a hand and pulled Alice to her feet. “You coming, Remus?”

“Nah, you’re alright. I’ll see you later,” Remus made his way towards the boys dormitories, feeling strangely forlorn. He had an invitation to spend some time with some people he liked, but for some reason he just didn’t fancy it.

“No worries, we’ll bring some food back for you!” Alice called over her shoulder.

Remus climbed up to the dormitory slowly, the stairs creaking deliberately under each step. He pushed the door open with his shoulder and stopped for a moment on the threshold. The room seemed weirdly vacant with only his trunk at the foot of his bed, and Remus shivered in the emptiness.

He crossed the room to his record player and placed _Sticky Fingers_ on the turntable. Mick Jagger began singing _Brown Sugar_ , and Remus sat cross legged on the floor, sorting through rolls of parchment with notes scribbled in untidy handwriting. He couldn’t believe it, but he was actually doing alright in his lessons. All the extra reading he had been doing had helped him a lot, and his marks were some of the highest in the class. Even though his friends hated History of Magic, it was one of Remus’s favourite lessons. Professor Binns’ teaching methods were a little questionable, to say the least. James and Sirius kept saying he must have bored himself to death, but Remus somehow found himself hanging onto every word that the ghost would say. The wizarding history was fascinating; the Gargoyle Strike of 1911, the Soap Blizzard of 1378, all bizarre events that had copious amounts of backstory and quirky characters. The one thing that Remus did not like learning about, however, was the Werewolf Code of Conduct. He sat rigidly during that lesson, not wanting to move, blink or react incase it drew attention to himself. His scars felt as though they were burning, and he was petrified that someone might look at him and guess his deepest, darkest secret.

 _Can’t You Hear Me Knocking_ began playing on the record player, and Remus suddenly found himself thinking about Sirius. He loved tracks like this one; the more rock’n’roll the better. Remus snorted out loud as he remembered Sirius’s impression of Mick Jagger, he would do it whenever a Stones record was playing. He tried not to think too much about his friends— currently sat on the train, zooming towards their loving families and cosy homes, no doubt. Remus didn’t end up responding to his father. He signed Professor McGonagall’s sheet at the beginning of the month to say that he wanted to stay at Hogwarts over Christmas, but that was it. Lyall didn’t ask Remus to tell him his plans, so he didn’t bother. 

The turntable clicked as the record came to an end, and Remus hurried over to turn the disc over. It was far too silent in Gryffindor Tower now that the majority of the students had gone home, and he wanted to do everything he could to create some noise.

There was a knock at the door, Remus froze, _Bitch_ playing loudly behind him. It wouldn’t be one of the teachers, would it? He wasn’t sure what the school policy of record players were.

“Remus? It’s only me. Alice and I were wondering if you fancied a game of Exploding Snap?” Frank called from behind the door. Remus rushed over and pulled it open. Frank looked at him expectantly, “What do you think then?”

“Er, yeah, alright,” Remus felt as though he couldn’t keep saying no to the couple, especially as they were clearly making an effort to spend some time with him.

“Oh, and you can bring your turntable down if you like! Got any good records?” Frank peered over his shoulder.

“Would that be alright?” Remus asked, nervously. If the turntable got confiscated he wouldn’t know what to do with himself.

“Yeah, ‘course! My mate Benjy, you know Benjy Fenwick don’t you? He’s got a record player too, but he took it back home for Christmas. It’s nice to have a bit of background noise, don’t you think?” Remus nodded. “Come on, I’ll help you carry it down.”

And so, that’s how Remus spent his evening. He sprawled on the floor next to the fire, mince pie in one hand, cards in the other, tapping his foot to Abbey Road as it played softly in the background. He knew that Alice and Frank were just taking pity on him, being the only other Gryffindor staying at the castle that Christmas, but honestly he didn’t really mind that much. Although they were quite a bit older than him, they treated him like an equal. Remus felt a great surge of appreciation and gratefulness for Hogwarts, as it really was the first and only place that ever felt like home.

***

Christmas Day at Hogwarts did not disappoint. Remus woke early, as usual, shivering slightly under his thick quilt. There was a curious weight near his feet, and he propped himself up on his elbows to get a better look. There, balanced on the end of his bed, was a tiny pile of gifts. He couldn’t believe his eyes, and leant forward to grab the carefully wrapped presents. There must be some sort of mistake, there were five parcels there! He didn’t usually get that amount of presents, just one gift from his father of whatever he could afford that year. Remus turned one of the parcels over; a large, thin, square shape. There was a note tapped to the top, written in neat copperplate script.

_Dear Remus,_

_I managed to sneak out to Muggle London the other day and was able to pick this up. I’ve wanted it for ages, but I think you’ll appreciate it more than me._

_I hope you have a good Christmas!_

_From Sirius_

Remus felt faint. He didn’t realise that the Marauders were doing presents. He hadn’t got his friends anything, mainly as he didn’t think he needed to, but also as he didn’t have a Knut to his name. Remus didn’t want to open the present, feeling as though he shouldn’t be allowed to accept gifts if he hadn’t given one in return. He placed Sirius’s present to the side, and peered nervously at the other tags. There was a small, squishy parcel from Peter, and a slightly larger, harder gift from James. Well, that was that. He wouldn’t open any of the presents from his friends, and would return them once they returned to Hogwarts. It was embarrassing, really, to have such thoughtful friends when Remus himself hadn’t even given a second thought to present-giving. He was sure the Marauders would understand, and would probably be quite pleased to have their gifts returned to them.

Remus turned his attention to the other two parcels. They were both soft, one larger than the other. Remus picked up the smaller one, squinting at the label. It was from his father. He sat for a moment, the present suddenly feeling very hot in his hands. He dropped the gift on his bed, threw the quilt off him and stalked to the window, the floorboards cool and scratchy under his bare feet. He pulled the scarlet curtains across the pole, and opened the window, taking a deep breath of the chilly morning air. The grass was covered in frost, and a misty fog was snaking its way over the grounds. In the distance, a steady stream of smoke was rising from Hagrid’s hut. Remus leant his burning head against the cold window frame, breathing heavily. It was silly to react this way, he knew. He just really wasn’t expecting a gift from his father this year.

Remus turned to look back at his bed where the remaining two gifts were lying almost expectantly, as if they were begging to be opened. He slunk back to his bed, clambering back onto the soft mattress. He stuck a finger under a fold in the wrapping paper and slowly started opening the gift from his father. It was a bright red knitted scarf. Remus ran his hands over the uneven rows of stitches, his brow furrowed in thought. He hadn’t told his father he was sorted into Gryffindor — was the colour coincidental, or had someone told him? Remus gave his head a slight shake, as if to expel the thought from his mind. It was Christmas, for Merlin’s sake, and he wasn’t going to spend the day worrying about his father.

The final parcel was large and soft, with a name tag that simply said _Merry Christmas Remus_ in unfamiliar handwriting. Remus ran his hands over the shiny wrapping paper, perplexed. He couldn’t think of anyone else who would want to give him a gift, let alone be anonymous about it. Still, he peeled the paper back to discover a woolly emerald-green jumper tucked inside. Remus lifted the jumper in awe, stroking the soft fabric. He had never had such a luxurious item of clothing before, and couldn’t understand who would want to spend that amount of money on him. Well, he would just have to ask around once everyone was back from their holidays, find out who it was from, and then return it. Still, there was nothing wrong with wearing it today, on Christmas, right?

Remus went and had a hot shower, treating himself to a few extra minutes under the water as a Christmas present to himself. He wandered through to the dormitory, a towel draped around his waist. He would never dare to walk around with so much of his scarred skin on show if the Marauders were here, but Remus thought he may as well take advantage of their absence. He put on his least tatty pair of brown corduroy trousers, an only _slightly_ crinkled shirt, and his brand new green jumper. Next, his hair. He scowled at his reflection in the mirror, running his fingers through his damp caramel-coloured curls. He had absolutely no idea how to style it, and long ago gave up trying to brush it as it gave him the unwelcome appearance of being struck by lightening. Remus tried to use his fingers to — oh, he didn’t know — tease his hair a bit, but gave up with a loud groan. It would have to do. He slowly made his way down the stairs from the dormitory, still fiddling with his curls.

“Merry Christmas Remus!” Frank and Alice cried out as he stepped into the common room. Frank was dressed a gaudy knitted Christmas jumper with a reindeer’s face on it, and had a headband with antlers perched on his head. Alice was wearing a long-sleeved beige turtleneck under a sparkly red dress, with a sprig of holly pinned in her curly hair.

“You two look festive!” Remus smiled, feeling a little embarrassed and underdressed. He hoped he wasn’t going red, and brushed one of those frustrating curls out of his eyes.

“Fab jumper, Remus, was that one of your presents?” Alice asked kindly.

“Yeah, got no clue who it’s from though,” Remus pulled the hem of the jumper out from his body and peered at it again, as if a name would appear on the wool.

“Oooh, you haven’t got a secret admirer, have you?” Frank grinned at Remus, waggling his eyebrows. Remus scoffed loudly.

“Secret admirer? Me? You must be having a laugh.”

“Well, if you don’t know who it’s from…” Alice trailed off, grinning at Remus in the exact same way as Frank was.

“Oh, leave it out will you? We going for breakfast or what?”

Frank shook his head, “We’ll find out who your admirer is at some point, you can count on that.”

Remus rolled his eyes and stuck his tongue out at the young couple.

***

Remus slowly made his way back up to the common room after stuffing himself silly at the Christmas feast. Frank was right, Christmas at Hogwarts was immense. Remus could hardly believe that the food could get any grander than it did at the Welcome or Halloween Feast, but the house-elves somehow pulled it out of the bag. Even Remus, who could sometimes eat at least two extra plates of food after his first, felt like he would explode if he had more than one extra helping. Frank and Alice wanted to go for a stroll around the grounds after the meal, but Remus couldn’t think of anything worse than exercise after a meal of that size. What he really fancied doing that evening was to curl up with a book, listen to some records, and let his body digest the insane amount of food he had just scoffed.

He briefly paused in the common room to make himself a cup of tea, using his wand to speed up the kettle boiling. He dropped a teabag into the biggest mug he could find, and poured the boiling water on top. He reached for the bottle of milk, permanently enchanted to stay cold, and poured a little into the mug, then used his wand to remove the teabag. Next he added two heaped spoonfuls of sugar, and stirred lazily, his mind wandering. Making a cup of tea was sort of like a ritual for Remus. The sound of the kettle boiling, the splash of the milk, the spoon clinking against the china as you stirred it all together. He removed the spoon, used the Scourgify spell to clean it, and put it back in the cupboard where the other tea-making utensils were kept. Remus blew on his drink absentmindedly as made his way towards the dormitory. He suddenly froze, his ears prickling. Was that music he could hear? Surely not. He narrowed his eyes and cocked his head, listening intently.

“ _It's a God-awful small affair_

_To the girl with the mousy hair_

_But her mummy is yelling no_

_And her daddy has told her to go…_ ”

Yes, it was music. Someone was in his dormitory, playing music.

“ _…But her friend is nowhere to be seen_

_Now she walks through her sunken dream_

_To the seat with the clearest view_

_And she's hooked to the silver screen…_ ”

Remus didn’t recognise the song, it definitely wasn’t a record he owned. What on earth was it though?

“ _…But the film is a saddening bore_

 _For she's lived it ten times or more…_ ”

The music got louder and louder as he crept up the stairs, tea in one hand, wand in the other.

“ _…She could spit in the eyes of fools_

 _As they ask her to focus on…_ ”

The door was left slightly ajar and Remus decided to kick it open, immediately stumbling backwards and nearly spilling his tea in shock. There was someone lying on his bed.

“ _…Sailors fighting in the dance hall…_ ”

“Sirius?”

“Alright Remus?” Sirius Black seemed a lot less surprised than Remus was, and gave him a lazy grin. “Merry Christmas! Can’t believe you didn’t open my present! I had to do it for you, David Bowie’s brilliant, isn’t he?”

“What on earth are you doing here? You went home for Christmas!” Remus made his way over to the record player and took the needle off the disc. It was a rare occasion when he actually wanted to be able to hear his thoughts.

“Ah. Well, that’s a long story. Still, what do you think of the record? Andromeda told me about it a while back, she said it was one of the best sellers this year.”

“Sirius, you can’t just turn up on Christmas Day and say it’s a long story!” Remus exclaimed, exasperated. “Stop banging on about the record and tell me why you’re here.”

Sirius exhaled dramatically and fell backwards onto Remus’s bed. His black hair fanned away from his face and his forehead was furrowed, causing fine creases to form in his pale skin.

“I had to leave,” He murmured, pressing his hands to his eyes. “Things got a bit… unpleasant.”

Remus walked uncertainly towards his bed, taking a nervous sip of his tea. He hovered near his trunk, unsure if he should sit down. “How… what do you mean by unpleasant?” He asked softly.

Sirius made a funny sound, as if he couldn’t decide whether he wanted to laugh or cry, “I’ve got this cousin, Bellatrix. She’s… well, she’s a nasty piece of work. Married to this awful guy, Rodolphus Lestrange, from another one of those sadistic Pureblood families. Proper into his dark arts, Rodolphus. Honestly, I thank my lucky stars that she left Hogwarts last year otherwise she would’ve made my life here absolute hell. At least I can sort of get away from it all at Hogwarts,” Sirius removed his hands from his face, and looked Remus dead in the eyes. Remus fidgeted slightly, he always felt rather uncomfortable whenever Sirius did that. It felt as though he was staring straight through to his soul, and Remus always had a peculiar feeling he would be unable to lie to Sirius while he was looking at him.

“Sounds like you’ve got a lovely extended family,” Remus said sarcastically, finally deciding to perch on the edge of his bed, near where Sirius’s feet were.

“Yeah, and I haven't even told you about mother dearest yet,” Sirius sighed and turned his head to look out of the window. “So, all the family are round on Christmas Eve for our annual Yule banquet. Well, the family who haven’t been disowned. You see, my family have some pretty archaic views on how things should be run. Step a toe out of line, say something disagreeable, have so much as the wrong thoughts and you’re out. Disowned, disinherited, and that’s where they leave it, if you’re lucky. I usually just keep my head down, my brother Regulus too. Nobody ever pays us much attention, so it tends to be pretty easy to go unnoticed. Eat quickly, stay out of conversations, leave quietly at the end once they start discussing politics. Well, it all changed this year. They actually decided to pay me some attention,” Sirius exhaled shakily, and closed his eyes again. “Me being sorted into Gryffindor, well, let’s just say it didn’t go down very well with the family. Every single member of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black have been sorted into Slytherin, so me ending up here was a pretty big shock, to say the least.”

“The letters…” Remus murmured, thinking of the envelopes Sirius burned back in their first week of term.

“Yeah. Didn’t have to read them to know what they thought of that. I was lucky no Howlers were sent, to be honest. I thought maybe it wouldn’t get mentioned at the banquet. I thought maybe, because I ignored the letters, they would just leave it be,” Sirius scoffed and shook his head. “Merlin, I don’t know why I was so naïve. Bellatrix had hardly put one foot in the house before she was calling me a blood-traitor, and that I should be working in the kitchens with the house-elves because of my ‘betrayal’. You know what my mum said? She said the house-elves didn’t deserve my company, that I wasn’t even worthy of being around any other creature that breathes. She hates house-elves, really sees them as inferior, so that was a bit of a kick in the teeth to say the least.”

Remus wasn’t sure what to say. Sirius had hardly ever mentioned his family, and he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He looked down at his rapidly cooling tea, and watched as the golden brown liquid swirled in the mug. Remus felt irritated with himself, it was insanely selfish to be feeling so helpless when Sirius has clearly gone through something dreadful.

“I was allowed to sit with everyone for the banquet, and had to listen to the rubbish they were spouting about Muggle-borns, Halfbloods and blood purity,” Sirius shook his head, looking slightly sick. “Normally I just hold my tongue, there’s no point arguing with _stupid_ , but then Bellatrix clears her throat and decides to announce to the table who I’ve made friends with at Hogwarts. Narcissa must have told her... That’s when things got bad.”

“But James… he’s Pureblood, isn’t he?”

“Yeah, but the Potters are what my family call blood-traitors. They have completely polar opinions on the so-called sensitive matters of ‘blood purity’,” Sirius used his fingers to make air quotes, his face grave. “So they’re the last people my family would want me being friends with. Bellatrix kept rubbing it in, saying all these awful things about you three. Dear old Mumsy lost it. Started calling me names I don’t even want to repeat, and… sent me to my room,” Sirius said the last part quickly, his eyes darting away from Remus’s. He got an odd feeling that Sirius was deliberately omitting something from his story, but didn’t question it. If Sirius didn’t want to tell him something, he would respect him. Everyone was allowed to have secrets, Remus of all people knew that.

“I managed to get an owl off to Andromeda, asking her to meet me in the park round the corner. Grimmauld Place, where I live, it’s Unplottable _and_ you can’t Apparate to it. Makes for a pretty tricky escape attempt. I managed to sneak out of the house in the early hours this morning, thank Merlin that Andromeda was there, waiting for me. She took me back to her place and I spent Christmas there,” Sirius smiled, his grey eyes crinkling. “It was actually was one of the best Christmases I’ve ever had. Fancied coming back here, thought you could probably do with the company, so I Side-Alonged with Andromeda to Hogsmeade and walked up from there. Luckily I bumped into Hagrid at the Three Broomsticks so he let me back in the grounds. So there you go. That was my Christmas. How was yours?”

Remus was stunned. He didn’t know how wizarding families worked, but this just didn’t sound right. He didn’t understand much about blood-purity and wizarding politics, but even if he did he doubted that it could excuse how Sirius’s family had treated him. Remus’s life with Lyall was hardly peachy, but at least he felt safe at home. It was absolutely nothing in comparison to what Sirius had just told him. He drained the last of his tea and exhaled shakily.

“Oh, Sirius,” He eventually whispered. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Alright? ‘Course I’m alright!” Sirius flashed him a grin, but his eyes didn’t light up like they usually did. “Come on, put that record back on! I want to see if you like it.”

Remus hesitated, unsure if he should say something else. His uncertainty seemed to hang in the air, and Sirius lifted his chin slightly, with a vague look of defiance on his face. It was almost as if he was daring Remus to ask more. He had told Remus all he wanted to, and was clearly going to leave the story there.

“Okay,” Remus eventually said, shifting the tone. “I can’t believe you opened my present!”

“You should’ve opened it this morning when you had the chance!” Sirius rolled over onto his side and reached towards Remus’s bedside table. “Here, take a look at the sleeve.”

Remus extended a hand and took the record sleeve from Sirius. The cover was a photograph of a man with long blonde hair, his hands clasped to his head, face pointed slightly upwards. _David Bowie Hunky Dory_ was printed in the top left hand corner of the photograph. Remus looked at Sirius, quizzical.

“David Bowie… I’ve heard of him, he sang _Space Oddity_ , right?”

Sirius nodded, his eyes starting to regain their sparkle, “Great track, wasn’t it? Go on, put the album on! I haven’t had a chance to listen to the whole thing yet, play it from the start, will you?”

Remus obliged and ambled over to the turntable, replacing the needle and letting the record spin. He turned back to his bed to see Sirius had shifted so he was lying horizontally across the bottom of the bed, the position he usually assumed whenever they listened to music. Remus smiled to himself. He secretly really enjoyed their listening sessions, and took his place at the top of the bed, knees drawn to his chest. David Bowie began singing the first song on the album, and Remus shut his eyes, feeling the music surround him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title is My Christmas Card To You - the Partridge Family
> 
> Music used:  
> You Never Can Tell - Chuck Berry  
> Brown Sugar, Can’t You Hear Me Knocking and Bitch - the Rolling Stones  
> Abbey Road [record] - the Beatles  
> Life on Mars - David Bowie


	6. Oh, You Pretty Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus and Sirius enjoy their time at Hogwarts over the Christmas holiday.

_Wake up, you sleepy head_

_Put on some clothes, shake up your bed_

_Put another log on the fire for me_

_I've made some breakfast and coffee_

_Look out my window, what do I see_

_A crack in the sky and a hand reaching down to me_

_All the nightmares came today_

_And it looks as though they're here to stay_

Although Remus would never admit it out loud, it turned out he actually quite enjoyed spending a bit of one-on-one time with Sirius. They had less than a week together, but it was one of the most enjoyable experiences he ever had in his life. With no James to show off in front of and no Peter to tease, Sirius had shown a totally different side to his personality. He was more thoughtful, more relaxed, more vulnerable. Instead of demanding the attention of everyone in the room, Sirius seemed content just being in the company of one person.

The two boys had settled into a rather pleasant little routine; Remus would wake in the morning and pour over his new book while he waited for Sirius to rouse. He convinced Remus to open the other two presents from the Marauders; a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans from Peter, and a book titled _Weird Wizarding Dilemmas and Their Solutions_ from James. The book provided very interesting reading, and Remus took note of any spell he thought could be used in future pranks. Sirius would eventually stir, yawning loudly and stretching like a cat once he emerged from behind the bed curtains. They’d slowly make their way down to breakfast after showering, and lazily bicker about what they would do that day.

Sometimes Sirius would want to sneak down to the Quidditch pitch and practice his flying, and Remus would accompany him, his new red scarf wound around his neck. On the chillier days he would take one of the blankets from the common room and huddle under it as he sat cross-legged on the grass, watching Sirius as he whooshed in the sky above him. Although Remus always grumbled about having to go and sit in the cold, he secretly didn’t mind it. It was quite pleasant really, seeing Sirius elegantly land his broom and come bounding over towards him, his cheeks tinged pink from the cold and hair tousled by the wind.

Other days, when the snow fell in a thick vertical blur, the boys would decide to explore the castle. There were many secret passages yet to be found, and Remus was surprised to discover that an exhaustive map of the castle and its secret entrances did not exist. He would wonder if perhaps he should try making one himself as they crept down the empty corridors, but eventually dismissed the idea, thinking his friends would tease him for it. They would check behind tapestries and tap their wands on statues, using the _Dissendium_ spell in the hopes that something would appear. So far they had only discovered one passage, hidden beneath the statue of the One-Eyed Witch. Sirius was beside himself when the statue slid forward, and was close to jumping down into the dark passageway, but unfortunately Peeves found them and they had to slink off. Remus made Sirius reluctantly promise that they wouldn’t go back there until James and Peter returned to the castle.

In the evenings they would curl up on Remus’s bed and listen to records. Sirius’s cousin, Andromeda, had given him a new album for Christmas - _Electric Warrior_ by T Rex. Remus liked _Monolith_ and _Girl_ , closing his eyes and letting himself be enveloped by the music. His favourite was _Cosmic Dancer_. Remus wasn’t sure what the song did to him, but it seemed to fill him with a strange yet beautiful melancholy. He’d feel tingles down his back and arms and have to remind himself to breathe properly, focusing on the violins as they crescendoed.

The album had a different affect on Sirius — it seemed to electrify him. He’d sit, bouncing on the bed, grinning so wide Remus would wonder if his cheeks ached once the record player clicked to an end. Sirius would bop every part of his body to the music, becoming one with the song. He’d manage to stay on the bed for the first couple of songs, but Remus knew that once the music had faded on _Cosmic Dancer_ Sirius would leap from the bed and start dancing around the room, demanding that Remus join him. Sirius’s favourites were _Jeepster_ and _Get It On_ , and would shout above the music that the only way to properly enjoy a song was to move to it. Usually Remus refused to get up from his bed, telling a very disgruntled Sirius that he was more than able to enjoy the music while sat down. Once or twice, however, he shyly slipped off his bed and tried his best to dance. He’d sway somewhat in time to the music, and sometimes flail his arms around as Sirius ricocheted around him, looking utterly delighted.

One particular morning, Alice and Frank demanded that the two first-years stopped skulking around by themselves and join them for a spot of iceskating. Remus was apprehensive — so far he’d discovered that he hated sports where he wasn’t securely on solid ground, so sliding around on ice really did not sound like his cup of tea. Sirius perked up at the invitation so Remus reluctantly agreed, not wanting to be left behind. The four of them trooped down to the Black Lake, which had frozen over completely in the icy Scottish winter. Alice transfigured some knives from the kitchen into ice-skates and passed them around, telling the boys to tie them to their shoes.

“I wonder how the Giant Squid is doing,” Remus mused as he double-knotted the blades securely to his trainers.

“Ah, he’ll be fine. I’m sure he won’t mind us skating on top of him,” Sirius grinned at Remus. He dangled his legs off the pier they were sat on, and slowly lowered himself onto the ice. He took a tentative step forward and then, after succeeding in staying upright, took a more confident swoop.

Frank dropped down onto the ice, and held out a hand for Alice. Remus stayed put, wanting to watch the others skate before he gave it a go himself.

“I think I’ve got the hang of this!” Sirius declared, gliding elegantly in a circle.

Frank chuckled, “That is pretty impressive, I will admit.”

“Just you wait until you fall on your face,” Remus called as Sirius fearlessly skated towards the centre of the lake, his black hair streaming behind him. “Er, Alice, the ice _is_ thick enough for all of us, isn’t it?”

“Oh yeah! Apparently the whole school came out and played a wizarding version of ice hockey on here one year. We’ll be fine,” Alice reassured him as she glided across the ice.

Remus really wanted to say something along the lines of ‘ _It doesn’t matter if the ice was thick enough to hold the whole school once, what matters is how thick it is today’_ , but decided to hold his tongue. Although he did feel as though he could joke around Alice, he was aware that some of his sarcastic comments came out a little blunter than he intended.

Instead, he forced his face into an unconvincing smile, and gently placed his feet on the ice. He exhaled deeply, and pushed away from the pier. His feet shot from underneath him and he toppled over, hitting the ice, hard.

“Ow,” He murmured to himself, rubbing his elbow. Miraculously, the ice didn’t break underneath him, but he could feel the cold seeping through his corduroy trousers.

“You alright Remus?” Frank skated over and helped him up. “You sort of went arse over tit, didn’t you?”

Remus tried to ignore his burning face and bruising limbs. “Think I’m better off watching you lot skate,” He brushed some frost off his trousers, and clung onto the side of the pier.

“Rubbish! You just need to take it a bit more carefully,” Alice said, skating up behind Frank and wrapping her arms around his chest.

He scoffed, “Yeah, think I figured that out.”

Alice smiled slightly, and cocked her head to the side, “Want me to teach you?”

“No, I’ll be alright thanks,” Remus freed one of his hands from the pier and waved them away. “You two go, enjoy yourselves! I’ll manage.”

“Don’t be silly, we can—”

“Go, honestly, it’s fine!”

Frank exchanged a look with Alice, who shrugged. She reached for her boyfriend’s hand and the two of them slid away, skates scraping loudly against the ice.

Remus glanced down as his feet and nearly slipped over again. He could have _sworn_ that he saw something move beneath the ice, and gripped the side of the pier so hard that his knuckles turned white. How on Earth was this supposed to be fun? He tried edging along the side of the pier, but for some reason he wouldn’t budge, no matter how much he moved his feet.

“Need a hand?”

Sirius had finally come back from the centre of the lake. Remus slowly lifted his head, worried that any sudden movement would send him flying again.

“Think I’m gonna sod this off, to be honest. If you can just help me get back on the pier then—”

“Don’t be like that, Remus,” Sirius said, leaning on the side of the pier. “I’ll help you, I bet you’ll enjoy it.”

“I really don’t want to be babied, so—”

Sirius made a strangled noise and threw his hands in the air, “Merlin, Remus! Nobody could baby you, even if they tried! Stop being such an uptight arsehole and give me your hands.”

Remus was taken aback, but not offended. He found it easier when people just said what they meant, instead of the stupidly polite beating-around-the-bush manner of speaking that so many favoured. Sirius wasn’t as blunt as Remus, but he did get straight to the point. A small smile curled the corner of his lips.

“Alright— but if you make me fall I’ll hex your hair pink.”

Sirius looked pleased with himself, and held his hands out, “That wouldn’t be too devastating, I don’t think. I look good in pink.”

Remus scoffed and tentatively took Sirius’s hands. They were cooler than his clammy ones, and he quickly let go and wiped his hands on his trousers before gripping Sirius again.

“Right,” Sirius rolled his shoulders back. “I think I’ve mastered skating backwards, so I’ll move and pull you towards me, alright?”

“Mastered skating— bloody hell Sirius, you’ve only been on the ice five minutes!” Remus was exasperated. There was no way that he had picked it up that quickly.

Sirius flashed him a cocky grin, “I’m good on my feet, what can I say? I reckon it’s the years of ballroom dancing.”

Remus shook his head, trying hard not to smile, “You Pureblood boys are going to be the death of me.”

“Promises, promises,” Sirius’s eyes glittered wickedly. “Hope you’re ready."

Before Remus could say anything, Sirius pushed off, leisurely gliding backwards across the ice, tightly holding Remus’s hands. His body obediently followed his feet this time, but he stayed rigid, worried that Sirius might stop holding him.

“I’m not going to let go,” Sirius reassured him, as if having read Remus’s mind. “Relax a bit, I’ve got you.”

Remus thought it was impossible to relax while skating on ice of indeterminable thickness, on top of an incredibly deep lake, but tried his best to not loathe the experience nevertheless. Sirius twisted and turned every now and then, dragging Remus in a pleasant route around the lake.

“You smiled!” Sirius eventually said, as they were gliding past the Forbidden Forest. “I just saw you smile! You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

Remus felt defensive for some reason. “No, I’m not,” He snapped.

Sirius rolled his eyes, “Give it a rest Remus. You know, you _are_ allowed to have some fun every now and then.”

Remus snatched his hands from Sirius’s and wobbled precariously on the ice. His eyebrows were tightly knitted and he could feel his cheeks going red. It took everything in him to stay upright.

“What the _hell_ is that supposed to mean?” He spat, white-hot fury rising in his chest.

Sirius looked utterly taken aback, and his skin around his eyes crinkled for a brief moment, “I didn’t mean anything, sorry, ignore it.”

Remus tried to regulate his breathing. It was the day before the full moon. He knew he was overreacting, but that didn’t mean he could turn it off and stop. He shut his eyes, desperate to see something other than Sirius’s puppy-dog hurt face, and clenched his fists, counting to ten.

“Remus, I’m sorry. I was just joking around,” Sirius pleaded.

Remus could hardly hear him, blood was pounding in his ears, and he tried to focus on the other sounds around him. The wind was rustling through the trees and owls were hooting as they flew towards the owlery. Alice was giggling as Frank chased her further down the lake, their blades scraping loudly against the ice. In the distance, twigs snapped as something moved through the forest. Remus knew he just needed to concentrate on what he could hear, and then he would be alright. He eventually opened his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” He said to Sirius, who was watching him carefully. “I didn’t mean to react like that. I think I should leave.”

He turned to skate back to the pier, but Sirius grabbed him by the arm.

“Like you’d be able to get there without my help,” Sirius seemed to be fighting back a smirk, and this time it was Remus who rolled his eyes.

Sirius held out his hands again, and Remus gratefully took them, allowing him to lead him back to safety. They reached the pier and scrambled onto it, sitting back on the planks, breathing heavily.

Remus reached down and untied the blades from his feet, kicking them off with a relieved sigh. He leant back on the weathered wood and watched Alice and Frank skating in the distance, the dappled sunlight streaming through the forest making Alice’s curls flash gold. Their laughter echoed across the empty lake, and Remus was struck with how happy they looked, as if the mere existence of the other provided an abundance of joy. Sirius shifted next to him, fiddling pointedly with his skates. Remus dropped his head on his shoulder and looked at his friend, getting the feeling that there was something he wanted to say.

“Remus,” Sirius eventually said, inspecting his blades closely. “Could I ask you something?”

His breath caught in his chest in sudden dread, but he nodded. If Sirius had discovered his secret then he would just have to accept it. Accept it, and then, of course, leave Hogwarts. He wondered if he’d be locked up straight away, or if he might be given a chance to flee. There was nothing he could do now if Sirius did know. Remus braced himself, but to his surprise his friend asked him something else. Something unexpected.

“What happened to your mum?” Sirius lifted his head to look at Remus properly, his grey eyes soft. “I’ve noticed you always refer to her in past tense, and you’ve said you only live with your dad.”

Remus didn’t respond immediately, and panic fell over Sirius’s face.

“I’m sorry if I’ve put my foot in it! You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to,” Sirius looked guilty. “I was just wondering, that’s all.”

Remus dropped his head, thinking deeply. He knew at some point questions would be asked about his family, but it was difficult to open up, especially considering the circumstances. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to have this conversation, but he was struck with Sirius’s brutal honesty on Christmas. He was able to tell Remus all about an incredibly traumatic event, so why shouldn’t Remus be able to do the same? It only seemed fair. Remus lifted his chin, and surveyed Sirius. He knew he could trust him.

“My mum’s dead,” Remus said brusquely, knowing there was no tactful way of saying it. “She died when I was four. It ruined my family. Completely. It changed me, in more ways than I could tell you, and it destroyed my dad.”

Sirius stiffened, and regarded Remus with mournful eyes, “I’m so sorry…”

“It’s alright,” Remus said, trying not to think too deeply about what he was saying. He found it was easier to speak in short sentences; they were easier to form in his head before the words left his mouth. “It was years ago. I was still really young when it happened. My memories of her aren’t that strong. It was worse for my dad. He’s not been the same since. My mum was a Muggle, and after she died my dad sort of withdrew from the wizarding world. I think it was so he could feel closer to her, but honestly I don’t really know. It’s why I knew so little about magic when I got here. I basically grew up like a Muggle.”

Sirius didn’t interrupt. He just sat, cross-legged, listening intently. He looked sorrowful, yet understanding.

“My dad was devastated when it happened. To be honest, I don’t think he’ll ever get over it. He can hardly even look at me, I think it’s because I look a bit like her. I’m the living reminder that she died, and I don’t think he can handle it,” Remus paused, taking a deep breath in. He had realised, with a start, that Sirius was the first person he had told about his family. He exhaled, forcing the air out of his lungs, and finished his story, quickly. “So yeah. I’ve got a bit of a complicated relationship with my dad. It’s hard to feel loved when your own father seems to hate the very sight of you. It could be worse, but… I dunno. It just would be nice if we could have gone through it together. Sometimes it feels like I lost both my parents that day.”

Remus’s final words washed over him, and he absorbed what he had just confessed to Sirius. It was something he had never even admitted to himself — the fact that all he desperately wanted was his dad to show him some affection. He felt uncomfortable; deep feelings like this often evoked a sense of distress, and he shifted awkwardly on the hard plank of wood. He didn’t dare look at Sirius, afraid of how he would react after hearing something so personal, so intimate. After all, they were eleven-year-old boys (or in Sirius’s case, twelve), and conversations about private feelings and emotions were often abhorred. He hadn’t told Sirius how his mother had died, but he thought he was well within his right to hold some things back. After all, Sirius had left gaps in his story about his family, and Remus knew he would respect the fact that there were some things he wanted to keep to himself.

Sirius still hadn’t responded, and Remus lifted his head to look at him, puzzled. It wasn’t like him to be quiet for so long. He had his knees drawn tightly to his chest, and was nibbling on his thumbnail, his eyes glassy as he gazed at the lake. Remus wasn’t sure if he wanted to be outraged or relieved that his friend had not acknowledged what he had said. They were good at sitting in silence; it was the only time that Remus allowed it to lull over him, focusing on the surrounding sounds to placate his whirring brain. He struggled over whether he should attempt to mitigate the fallout of his confession, or allow Sirius to process it in his own time. In the end it didn’t matter, as Sirius finally turned to look at him.

“Thank you for telling me that,” His voice was so low Remus had to strain his ears to hear him. “It means a lot that you opened up to me.”

Remus felt as though he was finally being seen, and his body shook with relief. He knew it was a lot to dump on someone emotionally, but Sirius seemed to have embraced his confession with open arms.

“Thank you for listening,” Remus replied, his voice hardly above a whisper.

Sirius then did something that astounded Remus. He shifted suddenly on the wood, grabbed Remus, and aggressively pulled him into a tight hug. Remus wasn’t quite sure what to do. He had gone through most of his life without much physical affection, and if he was being completely honest with himself, he wasn’t entirely sure what to do with himself. Sirius’s arms were taut around his back, so Remus decided it was best to mirror him. He hesitantly placed his hands on Sirius’s back and interlocked his fingers, resting his chin carefully on Sirius’s shoulder. After a while Sirius broke free, and the two boys leant away from each other, both looking mildly embarrassed.

“We understand each other,” Sirius said assuredly. It wasn’t a question, and Remus knew better than to query his meaning. Somehow he knew what Sirius meant, and felt as though a new bond had formed between them.

Some friendships are forged in shared experiences and common interests, but Remus and Sirius knew that they had something deeper than that. They had a mutual harmony - shared knowledge that although they both experienced things that the other couldn’t relate to, they could understand them nonetheless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title is is Oh, You Pretty Things - David Bowie.
> 
> UK lingo  
> Going arse over tit - to fall over suddenly  
> To sod something off - to stop doing something
> 
>   
> Hope you're enjoying :)


	7. Life's A Gas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus and the Marauders play one final prank before they break up for summer.

_I could have loved you girl_

_Like a planet_

_I could have chained your heart_

_To a star_

_But it really doesn't matter at all_

_No it really doesn't matter at all_

_Life's a gas,_

_I hope it's gonna last_

Remus went into 1972 as a werewolf. He didn’t even have the energy to feel upset that he was missing out on the New Year’s Eve celebrations that Alice and Frank had carefully planned, instead taking it nonchalantly on the chin. Sirius was dismayed when Remus told him he had to go and see Madam Pomfrey, and had to feign having a tummy bug. It was only his fifth transformation at Hogwarts but he already felt as though he was running low on excuses.

 _May as well start the year as you mean to go on_ , he gruffly thought as he dragged his feet towards the Hospital Wing.

Madam Pomfrey was stood waiting for him, some tinsel wound around her nurse’s cap. She beamed as Remus trudged towards her.

“Good evening Remus! Happy New Year’s Eve,” She called as he got closer.

“Yeah, you too,” He had a splitting headache, and wasn’t up for much conversation.

“I’m glad to see that jumper fits nicely. I wasn’t sure if I got your size right, I just went off the pyjamas you wear when you’re in the Hospital Wing.”

Remus snapped his head to stare at the Matron, his eyes wide. “ _You_ bought me the jumper?” He exclaimed, feeling rather oblivious.

“Why yes! I know Hogwarts staff don’t tend to buy presents for the students, but I thought an exception could be made in your case. I do worry about you catching a cold, and thought the colour would suit your eyes nicely,” Madam Pomfrey nodded as she looked at him. “Yes, I can see now that it fits well. I do hope you like it.”

Remus was stunned. The only adult he’d ever received a present from was his father, and wasn’t sure how how to express his gratitude to the Matron. He felt a surge of warmth in his chest, and felt slightly unsteady on his feet. He stared up at the kind-eyed witch feeling utterly grateful.

“Thank you,” He eventually said, desperately hoping he sounded sincere. “I love it.”

“You’re more than welcome, Remus. Come along, we had better get going.”

Remus followed Madam Pomfrey, falling a step behind her as he navigated his feelings. He felt a great wave of appreciation for the kind-hearted witch, and resolved to try to snap at her a little less in the future.

***

The rest of the Hogwarts students were due to return later the next evening, and Remus was pleased that he managed to drag himself to the common room before the train arrived. He gingerly stepped through the portrait hole and jumped when he realised Sirius was sat alone, staring into the fire. His pewter eyes were glassy and unfocused and his brow was furrowed, clearly deep in thought.

Sirius didn’t react when Remus walked in, so he decided to creep silently across the room, not wanting to disturb his friend. Unfortunately Remus was yet to perfect skulking around quietly, and ending up accidentally kicking over a pile of books. They fell with a crash to the floor and Sirius leapt from the sofa, startled.

“Blimey Remus! You gave me a fright,” Sirius was silhouetted by the fire, his normally sleek hair wafting away from his face in soft waves. He sensed his appearance, and raised a hand to smooth his hair down, tucking it behind his ears. His hair had grown over their first term at Hogwarts, and now covered his ears and fell in soft waves around his face.

“Sorry mate,” Remus shrugged. “Happy New Year.”

Remus was just about to make out Sirius’s white teeth as he grinned in the fading dusk light. “Happy New Year to you too! 1972’s got a good ring to it, hasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Remus delicately leant against the wall, trying hard to avoid his new bruises and fresh scratches. “Had a good night then?”

“Oh yeah, wasn’t too shabby. Just listened to some music and played cards with Al and Frank. Stayed up ‘till midnight but went to bed not long after,” Sirius sheepishly scratched behind his right ear, causing his hair to fall forward again. “Thought it would be nice to give them some space. I listened to some of your records, hope that’s okay.”

Remus nodded sagely. He knew that couples sometimes wanted some alone time, and tried not to think about what may have gone on in the common room that previous night, “Sorry I missed it.”

Sirius waved his hand at him, giving his head a quick shake, “Don’t be silly. You feeling better? The others should be back anytime now.”

“Yeah, Madam Pomfrey knows what she’s doing,” Remus brushed a finger over the hem of his jumper, smiling softly to himself.

The familiar bang of the Fat Lady’s portrait hitting the wall made both boys jump. The sound of chattering and lively voices replaced the echoey silence that had settled in Gryffindor Tower over the Christmas holiday, and Remus felt as though a warmth was returning to his bones.

“Sirius! Remus!” Called a familiar voice. “Happy New Year! 1972 is the year of the Marauders, have you heard?”

“Alright James?” Remus grinned as his messy haired friend bounded towards them, snowflakes rapidly melting on his robes.

“Happy New Year! Did you miss us?” Peter asked, his cheeks rosy.

“Like a hole in the head,” Sirius said drily, walking around the sofa to high-five James. “Remus and I have been brainstorming some prank ideas, he’s actually got a really good idea for—”

“Hang on a second Sirius, at least let us unpack first! Glad to hear you’ve been putting all this time to good use though. We had all of mum’s family staying from India so it’s been a pretty hectic Christmas,” James grinned, shrugging his shoulders. “Haven’t had five minutes to myself but the food was bloody good, so I can’t really complain.”

The four boys began climbing the stairs to their dormitory, chattering away as they caught up. They had only been apart for two weeks, but after spending every waking minute together for the best part of four months it felt as though they were long overdue a reunion.

“Stick a record on, will you Remus?” Sirius asked as Peter kicked the door shut behind them. “How about _Electric Warrior_?”

Remus ambled over to the record player, happy to do something useful. James was chattering nineteen-to-the-dozen to Sirius about presents and parties, and Remus could tell that Sirius was desperate to tell his friend about what happened to him on Christmas Eve. He knew Sirius would never say anything about his family in front of Peter, and presumed that he would spill the beans later, when he thought that the other two boys were asleep.

“Remus mate, I was wondering actually, how does your record player work?” James suddenly interrupted, abandoning his story about the five-a-side Quidditch match he played with his cousins on Boxing Day.

“Erm,” Remus began, pausing with a record in his hand. He wondered how much James knew about Muggle electronics and how much explaining he would need to do. “Okay, well, there’s the turntable—”

“Oh no no no, I mean how does it work at Hogwarts? Muggle technology goes a bit funny when it’s in a magical environment, and Hogwarts, well, it’s one of the most magical environments there is! I thought Muggle electronics needed to be plugged in?”

Remus realised, with a rather sudden start, that his record player _wasn’t_ plugged in. In fact, he didn’t recall ever plugging the turntable into electricity. It had always just _worked_. He sank onto his bed, feeling stupid. How on earth did something so obvious not occur to him?

“I— I don’t know,” He mumbled, not wanting to make eye contact with anyone. How foolish his friends must think him, to not even notice that his own record player worked when it wasn’t plugged in.

“Someone must have performed some sort of spell on it,” Peter helpfully offered, peering at the turntable. “Something to help it work in a magical environment?”

“Yeah, that’s what I was wondering,” James agreed, crouching next to Peter and tapping the record player with his wand. “Did Dumbledore do something to it, Remus?”

“No,” Remus answered, sitting up straighter now he had a chance to think. “It must have been my dad. I reckon he’s the one who fixed it, when it belonged to my mum. Otherwise it wouldn’t have worked properly in our house.”

“Aahhh,” James said, nodding sensibly. “That makes sense.”

Remus took care to avoid Sirius’s eyes, as he felt he was watching him carefully. It felt weirdly intimate to mention his parents in his presence, now that he knew more about his family. Sirius seemed to sense Remus’s discomfort, and strode over to the record player, his sudden movement breaking the spell.

“Alright, I’ll put the record on, if you’re quite finished with dissecting the turntable. James, get your ears ready for complete perfection.”

***

The rest of the year went as smoothly as it could, considering Remus had found himself friends with a group of boys who revelled in mischief. They averaged at least one major prank a month, with several smaller antics played in-between. Between them they had lost nearly one hundred and fifty house points, and had detentions more nights than they were free - but Remus was happy.

Of course, he much preferred the pranks that went along without a hitch, the pranks that he could slink away from quietly and have nobody suspect them, but unfortunately the Marauders had developed some notoriety in the school. Whenever something went awry McGonagall would pull them into her office and frown at them over the top of her square spectacles, her eyes piercing. The Marauders would deny everything, of course, but the Scottish professor was wise to their fervent denials and was always able to somehow wheedle the truth out.

It was the last week of June, and the Gryffindor first-years had just completed their end of year exams. Remus had nearly tore his hair out with stress, and Peter had bitten his nails almost down to his cuticles as he sat hunchbacked over his books. Lily guarded her notes closely at her favourite table in the library, aggressively shushing at anybody who so much as breathed in her direction. The only students who seemed unperturbed about the exams were James and Sirius. All James had to do was glance at a parchment of messily scribbled notes minutes before he entered the Great Hall for the exam, using his remarkable photographic memory to write scrolls upon scrolls of whatever the exam question was about. Sirius hardly glimpsed at any of his notes or textbooks, instead bragging to everyone that there was no need to revise as everything he had to know was neatly memorised inside his head.

Remus envied his two dark-haired friends, and felt as though his brain had turned into a colander. He’d sit in the library late every night, his eyes burning in the candlelight, pouring over books that he had read at least four times already. He’d reread the same sentence over and over again, feeling as though nothing was staying in his head. Sometimes Peter would sit with him, looking as though he was trying hard not to cry as he rewrote his essays, quill scratching furiously against the parchment.

Remus had noticed that their exam timetable had been modified to accommodate his June transformation, which had fallen on the last Monday of the month. Their exams ran for the entirety of the week before the full moon, then they had a two day break at the beginning of the week, then back to business for the final few exams Wednesday onwards. No reason was given for this gap in the timetable, but Remus suspected it was so that he had time to recover from the transformation, and even more importantly, so he didn’t worry himself sick over falling behind.

In the end, the exams really weren’t _that_ difficult, but Remus felt the wonderful surge of relief wash over him as they trooped out of the Great Hall after their last exam. In hindsight, he really didn’t have to worry that much — they were only end of term tests after all, but at the same time he desperately hoped he would get the grades he wanted.

The four boys walked straight out of the main door and down into the school grounds, squabbling over their answers for the Transfiguration exam. James was certain he had got most of the answers right, and Sirius said he didn’t even see the point in discussing it as he knew he hadn’t got a single question wrong. The sun beat warmly on their backs as they picked their way down to the Black Lake, making Remus pull at his tie, loosening it slightly from around his neck. Peter crouched at the bank of the lake, trying to find some flat pebbles. He was the best at skimming stones out of all of them, once managing to bounce a stone nine times before the Giant Squid reached lazily out of the water and plucked it out of the air.

“Are we all set for the end of term prank then?” Sirius asked, rolling his sleeves up to his elbows.

“Blimey Sirius, you still on about that?” Remus asked, exasperated. James and Sirius had been working on their last hurrah for the past couple of weeks, but Remus had wanted no part of it, instead spending his time revising for the exams.

“If we don’t do one final prank we’re going to have to revoke our Marauder cards!” James grinned, selecting a smooth rock from the ground. “Sirius and I have done most of the prep, we just need you two to help us execute.”

“I don’t know,” Remus began, watching as James flung his rock at the water. It hit the lake with a loud splash and instantly sunk. “Don’t get me wrong, it does sound like a good prank, but—”

“But what?” Sirius interrupted, straightening up as he abandoned his search for stones.

“I know what you’re going to say, but this time I _really_ don’t want us to be caught.”

Sirius groaned loudly and rolled his eyes, “Remus, come on, the thrill is in the chase! If there’s no risk then there’s no point doing it.”

“I know that! I’m not being a wuss, it’s just—” Remus sighed, walking over to a large rock and plopping himself down on it, looking towards the Forbidden Forest. “I don’t want it to impact my grades. I don’t want to give anyone a reason not to let me back.”

“What? Who wouldn’t let you back?” James asked, furrowing his eyebrows and jabbing his glasses up his nose.

Remus looked to Sirius, who gave a slow understanding nod behind James’s back.

“We’ll be fine,” Sirius said, confident and reassuring. “We won’t get caught. I promise.”

Uncertainty seemed to hang in the air as Remus made his mind up. Sirius didn’t look away from him once, his silver eyes shining in the midday sun. James kicked some stones into the water, and Peter hummed as he searched for more pebbles.

“Alright. Let’s do it,” Remus tapped his fingers on his jaw and grinned up at his friends. “I have a couple of suggestions though, if you’d like to hear them.”

“Yes!” James punched the air in glee, and began dancing around. “Any suggestions are more than welcome, the Marauders are a democracy, after all.”

“If Remus is in then I’m in too,” Peter said, squinting up at them from his spot on the ground.

Sirius didn’t say anything, but he smiled.

***

“Ouch! Stop pushing me!”

“Well, you’re treading on my foot!”

“Don’t put your feet under my feet then.”

“Shush! Someone’s going to hear us.”

“Don’t think the paintings will rat us out, Remus.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure about that James, I once heard that—”

“Shut up for a second Peter, I think I heard something.”

“No you never—”

“Sirius is right, I think I hear footsteps.”

“Quick! In here!”

Remus darted out from underneath the Invisibility Cloak and into a small alcove behind a large mirror. There was a slight commotion as his three friends dived in behind him, the mirror sliding back into place as the unmistakable sound of Filch lolloped past.

“Annoying bugger. I’d recognise those footsteps anywhere,” Sirius murmured, pressing his eye to a crack in the opening. “I reckon we would’ve been alright under the cloak though.”

“Not with the cauldron!” James pointed out, waving his wand so the large metal pot hit the floor with a loud clang. “It’s still hissing. Not going to lie, I’m kind of glad we kept the potion in the cauldron now. Feel like it may have exploded if we decanted it into some vials.”

“You’re sure we got the quantities right?” Remus asked doubtfully, bending over and peering into the bubbling pot.

“Don’t worry about it, Remus,” Sirius drawled, leaning back from the mirror. “You triple checked every step. It would be a magical miracle if something slipped past you.”

“Still, I’m not the best at Potions,” Remus chewed on his lip, eyes fighting the darkness to see his friends faces. “Think Filch has gone, shall we get going?”

“ _Wingardium Leviosa_ ,” James waved his wand and the cauldron raised from the ground and obediently followed him out of the passage.

The boys hurried down through the deserted corridors, and finally, out of the castle. Remus inhaled deeply, enjoying the fresh summer air that Scotland had to offer. He shivered slightly in his thin cotton pyjamas, and absentmindedly scratched the back of his head, his fingers catching in his curls.

“Come along Lupin, now’s not the time to be admiring the moon,” Sirius said airily, bouncing on the balls of his feet as they walked down to the Black Lake.

Remus snapped his head to stare at his friend, feeling as though the life had been smacked out of him. _Surely_ Sirius didn’t know. It wasn’t the first time he’d made a comment like that, but they had always been in passing, and Sirius had a tendency to casually say things and then pretend not to understand why people were reacting in a certain way.

“Shut up, Sirius,” Remus ended up saying, thinking it was better to bat the comment back rather than to dwell on it any longer.

Sirius flashed him a smile and tapped the cauldron with his wand, looking restless but excited, “I can’t _wait_ to see everyone’s faces tomorrow.”

“You’re sure the potion isn’t toxic?” Peter asked, his face pale in the moonlight. “Don’t think I’d be able to live with myself if we killed all the wildlife in the lake.”

“Trust me, it’s completely harmless,” James reassured him, lowering the cauldron on the bank of the lake. “Remus wouldn’t have let us done it otherwise.”

Remus nodded in agreement, and took a final glance at the spluttering cauldron, “Are we going to do it now? It’s just gone three, so if the potion lasts twelve hours—”

“Yeah, I reckon three pm is a good time for it to wear off,” Sirius agreed, grinning widely. “Gives everyone enough time to have a good look at it, don’t you think?”

“Brilliant. Right, are we all ready?” James asked, raising his wand. The other three boys nodded in agreement.

“ _Windgardium Leviosa_ ,” They chanted.

The cauldron lifted easily from the ground, as if it was weightless, and began to glide towards the centre of the lake. Nobody spoke, they were all busy concentrating on keeping the large metal pot steady. James twisted his wand in his hand and the cauldron tipped over slightly, dribbling the potion into the lake as it hovered around. It finally emptied, and the boys brought it back to the bank of the lake.

“Ready for the final charm?” Remus asked, his wand at the ready.

They chanted the words in unison, and James cast a modified Tempus charm so that the spellwork would activate at the appropriate time.

“It’ll be ready tomorrow morning,” Remus said, squinting at the inky lake. “No point waiting around to see what happens.”

“Great,” Peter yawned loudly and rubbed his eyes using his knuckles. “Can we go back to bed now?”

“May as well, it’ll be too obvious if we all look knackered tomorrow,” James pointed his wand at the now empty cauldron. “ _Scourgify_.”

“I’ll carry it back,” Sirius offered, casting a levitation charm on the pot.

The four boys didn’t speak much as they crept back towards the castle and up to their dormitory. Peter fell face-first onto his bed, not bothering to get under the sheets, but James sat cross-legged on his mattress, looking pointedly at Sirius. Remus could tell that he wanted to have one of his late-night chats with his best friend, so he bid them goodnight and clambered into his own bed, pulling the curtains roughly across the pole.

***

“Wake up, wake up! Come on lads, it’s time!”

Remus flung his covers off him, and slid out from behind his curtain. He’d been awake for a while now, but never wanted to be the first out of bed. Luckily James was an early riser, and was performing his usual wake-up ritual on Sirius and Peter, who preferred the warmth of their beds in the mornings.

“Morning James,” Remus feigned a yawn and padded towards the bathroom. “Alright if I go in the shower first?”

“Knock yourself out,” James replied, shaking Sirius’s bed curtains. “You’re the quickest out of the four of us anyway.”

Remus slipped into the bathroom and locked the door, quickly jumping in the shower and letting the hot water wash over him. He would be heading back home later that day, and wondered what his dad’s new place in the Peak District would be like. He was dreading going back, and had tried hard not to think about it as the holidays loomed closer and closer. Now it was the last day of term there was nothing else to think about. He had his three friends addresses, and told them he would write as soon as he could, so they had his home address too. Even Frank and Alice had given him their contact details, making him promise that he would keep them updated on the goings-on at Hogwarts.

Ravenclaw won the House Cup last night at the Leaving Feast, which wasn’t too bad, considering Slytherin were only five points behind them. The Maurauders agreed that while Ravenclaw winning wasn’t ideal, it certainly was better than Slytherin cinching the cup. Lily had given them withering looks when the final points were announced, clearly blaming them for Gryffindor coming last.

Remus turned the tap off and stepped out from the shower, roughly towelling himself dry. He dressed quickly and cleaned his teeth, doing his usual morning routine of scowling at his reflection. When he emerged from the bathroom he was stunned to see Sirius out of bed.

“You that excited about the prank?” Remus asked, cocking an eyebrow as Sirius rooted through his nearly fully packed trunk.

“Oh yeah! Can’t wait to get down for breakfast. I wonder when people will start noticing,” Sirius grabbed his toothbrush, evidently having mistakenly packed it last night, and headed towards the bathroom.

“Doubt it’ll take anyone long to notice,” Came Peter’s muffled voice from behind his bed-curtain. “If we’ve got the potion right it should be rather obvious.”

“Oh, come on! No point talking about it, I want to see some _reactions_!” James exclaimed, yanking Peter’s curtains open. “Get _up_ Peter! You’re holding us back.”

Peter clambered from his bed and began to get dressed, grumbling about how impossible it was to function when his eight hours of sleep were so rudely interrupted.

The four boys made their way down to breakfast earlier than they ever had before, and took their usual seats on the Gryffindor table. Remus wasted no time in filling up his plate with food — he always seemed hungry, and knew it was the last luxurious meal he would be having for a while. The Marauders ate quickly, chatting in-between mouthfuls about menial things, but each keeping a trained eye on the entrance to the Great Hall.

“Surely someone’s got to notice at some point!” Sirius whined, shifting agitatedly in his seat.

“We’ve only been down for fifteen minutes,” Remus pointed out calmly, using some toast to mop up the last of his baked beans. “It’s still pretty early.”

“What if nobody notices at all and we end up getting on the train without anyone ever knowing what we did?” Peter added, pouring himself another glass of orange juice.

“You lot need to relax!” James laughed, slapping Sirius on the back. “There’s absolutely no way that we’ll leave without anyone noticing, it’s easily one of the biggest—”

“SOMETHING’S HAPPENED TO THE BLACK LAKE!”

The early morning chatter died instantly as a sweaty looking third-year Hufflepuff shouted from the entrance of the Great Hall.

“COME QUICK! LOOK!” He shouted again, beckoning with both hands.

There was a momentary stunned silence, and then an eruption of scraping benches and excited babbling as the entire school leapt from their seats and thundered after the Hufflepuff, who looked beside himself that so many people were listening to him. James flashed a knowing grin at his friends, and the four boys joined the thronging crowd as they stampeded towards the Black Lake.

It was truly a sight to behold. The previous inky black waters were dyed a brilliant shade of Gryffindor scarlet, with glittering sections of gold weaving gently between the waves. Instead of looking nightmarish, which was Remus’s concern, it looked wonderfully patriotic — unmistakably Gryffindor. Just above the bank of the lake were spindly letters, seemingly etched into the sky. The words: WE’LL GET IT NEXT YEAR!

Laughter erupted among the crowd, although unsurprisingly it was mainly the Gryffindors who found this lavish display of house pride amusing. Soon enough, some Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffscracked smiles too, and Remus could have sworn he overheard a couple of Slytherins gruffly admiring the spellwork.

Lily caught Remus’s eye and she shook her head disapprovingly, but was clearly fighting back a smirk. Mary and Sakiya were giggling away, and Marlene loudly commented on how she hoped that no wildlife were injured. Remus felt a clap on his shoulder and turned to see Frank’s twinkling eyes.

“As Head Boy, I vehemently disprove of this sacrilegious vandalism of one of the most well-loved landmarks on the Hogwarts grounds,”

Remus cocked an eyebrow, waiting with a slight smirk on his face for his counter-point.

“But as a Gryffindor… It’s brilliant! Glad to see you’ve got some house pride, after all,” Frank grinned and ruffled Remus’s hair.

“I love the gold highlights in the water. Really nice spellwork, but you didn’t hear that from me,” Alice popped up from behind Frank, and gave them a cheeky wink.

“Thanks Al,” Sirius said, draping an arm around Remus’s shoulders. “Although that was Remus’s idea. He’s the brainy one.”

Remus pushed Sirius’s arm off and tried to hide his red cheeks. He hated compliments of any kind, and abhorred being in the limelight.

“Look at McGonagall! She can’t believe her eyes,” Peter pointed out, indicating their head of house. She was stood to the side of the lake, cleaning her glasses slowly as she stared up at the hovering text, looking fed up. “Bet she can’t wait to have a summer free of us.”

“Just got to make sure we make up for it when we return in September,” James laughed, a mischievous smile playing on his face. “Don’t want to make her think we’re turning over a new leaf.”

“Oh, absolutely not, my fellow Marauder,” Sirius nodded at the still chattering crowd. “I would say that was a decidedly successful prank, wouldn’t you say?”

“Quite,” James agreed, pretending to twirl his non-existent moustache. “I do believe we’ll be able to hold onto our Marauder status for a little while longer.”

Remus laughed with his friends, and tried to take a mental photograph of this moment. He had already prepared himself for the loneliness of the summer, but hoped that in some way he would be able to take his friends with him. Not physically, of course, but if he was able to remember the way he felt right now, then maybe, just maybe, the summer would be more bearable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title is Life’s A Gas - T. Rex


	8. I Had A Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the summer holidays, and Remus befriends some of the village boys.

_Bright the light through my window pane_

_Shield my eyes from the beam_

_Keep the day from my aching brain_

_I had a Dream_

Dear Peter,

Sorry for not writing to you earlier, things have been pretty hectic up here in the Peak District. My dad’s new place is really nice — it’s even got a bit of a garden, and the views are really pretty.

Happy belated birthday! I meant to get this letter out to you before, but things just got in the way a bit. Hope you had a nice time anyway.

My address is on the reverse of this letter.

I hope you’re having a good summer holiday! I’ll see you in September.

Kind regards,

Remus.

***

Dear James,

Sorry for not writing to you earlier, I’ve just been pretty busy up here in the Peak District. My dad’s new place is really nice, it’s even got a bit of a garden, and there’s loads of cows and sheep in the nearby farm.

Hopefully you’re back from India by the time this letter arrives. I hope you had a good time, I’m almost jealous that you managed to have a bit of sun!

Have you managed to play much Quidditch over the summer? I bet you’re training hard for the tryouts. I’m sure you’ll get in.

You can find my address on the reverse of this letter.

I hope you’re having a good holiday! I’ll see you in September.

Kind regards,

Remus.

***

Dear Sirius,

Sorry for not writing to you earlier, but it’s been quite different living up here in the Peak District. My dad’s renting a cottage — it’s pretty small, but it has a really nice garden.

The village we live in is called Eyam (pronounced Eem), also known as the Plague Village. The name comes from the time they managed to contain the outbreak of the Black Death back in 1666 by isolating the entire village. It’s got really interesting history, so I’ve been doing quite a bit of reading about it. I’m not sure if you’d find it boring or not, but I thought I may as well tell you anyway.

There’s a record shop in Bakewell (the nearby town) so I’ve been there quite a few times. I haven’t bought any records yet, but I stand for ages in the listening booth. The shop assistants are pretty friendly, so they don’t seem to mind.

My address is on the reverse of this letter, if you want to reply.

I hope all is going well with you.

Kind regards,

Remus.

***

Hi Remus,

I had a marvelous birthday, thank you for asking. It’s good to finally be twelve!

I’m so bored at home, but there’s no chance I’m starting on our summer homework yet. Have you done any of it? I just don’t have the energy. Summer is all about relaxing! I’ll cry if I have to think about Potions.

We’re going for a caravan holiday with some of mum’s family next week, so hopefully that should make things interesting. Who knows?

Write soon!

From,

Peter.

***

Remus,

FINALLY A LETTER! It’s been over a month! You’re such a little weasel, you promised that you’d write as soon as you got back. Glad to hear your new place is nice, maybe the Marauders can come and visit sometime?

Speaking of which, Mum and Dad said that you’re more than welcome to come and stay with us for a few days! I wanted to invite you at the beginning of summer but obviously you DIDN’T SEND A SINGLE LETTER. Oh well, we’ve still got three weeks left, so there’s still time if you want to come and visit! It would be brilliant, we’ve got enough rooms for everyone to stay, and we can even play Quidditch in the garden! We could even get the train into London if we fancied, and go for a walk around Diagon Alley! It would be so much fun! You’ve _got_ to come!

India was great! It was super hot, but it was nice to see some family members who have got a bit too old to Apparate. I played loads of Quidditch while I was out there, but since I’ve got back I’ve not been able to play any proper games. The struggles of being an only child!

You haven’t heard from Sirius, have you? I’ve written him a few letters but haven’t had any reply. The owls have returned empty-clawed, so the letters have been delivered. I can’t understand what’s going on! I’ve been losing my mind a bit, with only Peter to talk to. I’ve met up with him a couple of times in Diagon Alley but that’s it. I’ve asked Dad if there’s anything he can do but he said maybe Sirius has just got bored of being friends with me. I don’t think that can be the reason, do you?

Anyway, can’t WAIT for your next letter! I think this is the longest letter I’ve ever written in my life, that’s how excited I am!

Missing the Marauders lots.

Best,

James.

***

Dear James,

Thank you for the kind offer of inviting me to stay but unfortunately I’m going to have to turn it down. I’ve only just got the letter and now there’s only two weeks left of the summer holiday, which isn’t really enough time to come and stay. Oh well — I’ll be seeing you soon anyway!

I haven’t heard from Sirius at all, but I have only sent him one letter. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s just decided he’s had enough of you. You are a bit of a nightmare — especially in the mornings, and as you know, Sirius really isn’t a morning person. He’s probably just enjoying his lie-ins!

Are you worried about him? I know his family were a bit funny about him being sorted into Gryffindor, but I’m sure he’s fine. It’s Sirius, he’s probably just being weird about something.

Don’t worry too much!

Kind regards,

Remus.

***

Hey Remus,

That’s weird about you not seeing the letter in time! I even sent my favourite owl to deliver it, maybe she’s getting old.

I _still_ haven’t heard from Sirius! I told my Dad that I was going to get the train into London and go straight to Grimmauld Place, but he told me that their house was probably Unplottable, and if I did manage to find it his parents would probably curse me. Well, I don’t care much about being cursed, but I thought that if I couldn’t even find the house there probably wasn’t much point in trying. I’m still threatening to go though, and hoping my Dad will try to pull some strings at the Ministry instead.

Maybe he is just being Sirius, who knows. Let me know if you hear from him.

Best,

James.

***

Remus folded the letter carefully and placed it gently on his bedside table. Despite not showing it in his letter to James, he _was_ worried about Sirius. It was unlike him to withdraw from his friends, and Remus couldn’t shake the awful feeling that something was wrong. He considered writing him another letter, but quickly dismissed the idea. If Sirius wasn’t responding to James’s multiple letters, then it was very unlikely that a second letter from Remus would make much difference.

He got up from his lumpy bed and crossed to the window, opening the heavy latch and taking a deep breath of the country air. He had grown quite fond of Eyam, with its winding roads and brick houses. He went for walks nearly every day in the surrounding fields, marvelling in the beauty of the Peak District. He heard the front door bang shut, and walked through to the kitchen, where his father had collapsed into one of the rickety chairs.

“Hi Dad. How was work?”

Lyall didn’t lift his head from the table, “I’m absolutely knackered. I’ve been harvesting wheat all day, my hands feel red raw.”

Remus’s father had found work as a labourer at one of the nearby farms. He left early in the mornings and often stayed late at night, doing whatever he could to earn a bit of extra money for the family.

“Do you want me to make you a cup of tea?” Remus offered, hovering by the kettle. “Or something to eat? I could reheat some of the shepherds pie from—”

“No, I’ll be reyt. Thanks Remus,” Lyall lifted his head and smiled weakly at his son. “Are you going out to play with your friends tonight?”

Remus tried not to wince in embarrassment at his words, although it was true that he had been spending a bit of time with some of the boys from the village. They’d come up to him while he was on one of his walks, and eventually convinced him to come and spend time with them at the cricket field. Although Remus didn’t join in when they played football, he found he didn’t mind sitting on the grass, watching as they shouted and whooped as they ran about. They were pretty noisy, which Remus quite liked.

“They’re not really my friends, and we don’t _play_. I’m too old for that.”

“Sorry lad, understood,” A ghost of a smile flickered across Lyall’s face, and Remus blinked quickly, as if to clear his eyes. His father rarely smiled properly, but when he did it lit his face up and made him look younger — as if his stresses and grief had melted away. His usual expression quickly replaced the smile, and Remus once again faced his tired father.

“It’s _the_ night tonight, anyway. I won’t be going anywhere,” Remus said, looking pointedly at the cheap calendar hanging on their wall.

“Oh — right, yes, of course,” A guilty look crossed Lyall’s face, and he turned to the window. “How much longer do you have?”

“Sunset’s at half eight.”

“Blimey, okay. Right. I’d better get my, er—”

“Wand?”

“That’s the bugger,” Lyall slowly stood from his chair, his joints clicking as he unfolded himself. He strode from the room and Remus leant against the kitchen counter, listening to him rooting around in his bedroom.

“Are you ready?” Lyall reappeared at the kitchen doorway, holding his wand between his thumb and forefinger as if it was a bomb, seconds from detonating.

Remus nodded. There was no way he could ever feel prepared for the transformations, but there was nothing he could do to stall them. He exhaled shakily, and followed his father down to the small basement of the cottage.

“ _Lumos Maxima_ ,” A bright burst of light erupted from Lyall’s wand, lighting the small room. Remus made his way towards the battered old armchair in the corner, and sank onto the ripped upholstery. His body was already aching, but he felt restless. The wolf was stirring.

Lyall hesitated for a moment in the doorway, looking at his son with a tortured expression on his face. “Is there anything I can get you?” He asked, helplessly.

Remus narrowed his eyes, “Is there anything that can help me?”

His father ran his hand through his salt and pepper hair, looking embarrassed, “I’m sorry Remus. I wish there was more I could do. Good luck, I hope this one isn't too bad.”

Remus opened his mouth but Lyall swiftly stepped out of the room and shut the door behind him. He sat and listened as his father murmured the oh-so familiar spells and charms that would keep him locked beneath the cottage until sunrise. Remus let his head fall backwards on the armchair, staring up at the shadowy wooden beams lining the basement. He knew that the searing pain would start soon, and desperately tried to distract his mind. Happy memories, surely he could find some happy memories?

His mind automatically wandered back to Hogwarts. Of course, it was the only place he had any concrete happy memories. Surprisingly, he began thinking about Sirius, and the day they had sat by the frozen lake. Remus presumed he must just be on his mind, after reading the letter from James, and tried to think of some other instances where the rest of his friends were there. He suppressed a moan as his bones began to crack and shift, blinking furiously as tears threatened to leak out of his eyes. It was time.

***

“Oh, you jammy bastard!” How’d you manage that?”

It was the last day of the summer holiday and Remus had agreed to go to the nearby reservoir with some of the boys from the village. They had nicked apples from the farmers orchard for a snack, munching on the sweet, crunchy fruit as they waited for the bus. Remus had leant his head against the rattling window panes on the drive there, stomach lurching slightly whenever they swung around a narrow bend in the road.

The bus had dropped them off right next to the reservoir, but the boys hiked to a spot that was known for being the best place for swimming. The four village boys stripped down to their underwear and jumped straight into the deep blue water, but Remus sat on the bank, not wanting to show his scars. He decided to start skimming stones, using the technique Peter had shown him. He hadn’t realised anyone was watching him until he skimmed a stone six times, resulting in a surprised hoot from one of the boys.

“I’ve never seen anyone skim a stone that many times. That’s proper impressive, that.”

“Thanks Frederick,” Remus called back at the boy, whose bobbing head was just visible above the lapping water.

“How many times do I have to tell you to call me Freddie!” There was splashing as the boy swam towards the bank. “Only me mam calls me Frederick, and that’s only when I’ve done 'er head in.”

“Sorry Freddie.”

Freddie pulled himself from the lake, his wet feet slapping against the stones as he made his way towards Remus. He sniffed as he sat down, wiping his nose roughly with the back of his hand. He was the same age as Remus, with his red hair shorn nearly down to his scalp. He was the one who invited Remus to play with them — the other boys being slightly older, therefore initially turning their noses down at the prospect of spending time with _another_ twelve year old. They’d warmed to him eventually, but Freddie was the one Remus got on best with.

“Don’t you want to stay in with the other lads?” Remus asked, using his head to indicate the three older boys, splashing and laughing in the water.

Freddie pulled a face, “Noah’s proper doing my head in, not gonna lie. He’s been a right mardy arse all day, don’t you think?”

Remus shrugged, tucking his book into his tattered old backpack, which had began to fall apart at the seams.

Freddie put his clothes on and began lacing up his shoes, “Do you fancy going for a walk? Nowt else to do ‘cept watch ‘em swim.”

“Yeah, alright.”

They began strolling down by the bank of the reservoir, leaving the other boys behind them.

“Now then, tell us about your posh boarding school again?” Freddie asked, his rubbing his stubbly hair.

Remus paused. He had told the boys he went to school in Scotland, but was finding it more and more difficult to come up with lies about the lessons and the people who went there. Very little happened at Hogwarts that wasn’t in some way related to magic, making it next to impossible to relay any stories or anecdotes.

“Well, you remember I told you about the greasy kid?”

“Snake, or summat like that?”

“Yeah, Snape. One day we, er, stuck a sign on his back. James reckons he never washes his hair, so it said: ‘URGENTLY NEEDED: a bottle of grease removal shampoo’,” Remus smiled as he remembered how Sirius perfected the sticking charm so the parchment stayed permanently glued to Snape’s robes. “He walked around until lunch with the sign on him. A couple of students even went and gave him some bars of soap and bottles of shampoo from their dormitories. You should’ve seen his face — he was fuming! Couldn’t figure out why everyone seemed in on the joke.”

Freddie chuckled appreciatively, nodding at Remus to continue.

“Even his housemates didn’t say anything, and I’m sure they noticed. In the end it was this girl in my house who realised and removed the sign. She was pretty angry with us, even though we denied that we did it.”

“Hang about, I thought you said people in your house hated people in his house?”

“Yeah, well, that’s how it usually is. The girl in my house, Lily, she’s mates with Snape. They’re childhood friends or something, and she sticks up for him a lot. She’s the only person who does.”

Freddie nodded, chewing the inside of his cheek, “Some lasses can be a bit funny with lads. Get all protective, like. Maybe she fancies him?”

Remus almost burst out laughing, “I can say with complete certainty that Lily Evans most definitely does not fancy Snape. That would never, _ever_ happen. She’s just kind. One of the kindest girls I know.”

“Alright, you don’t have to get all soft about it,” Freddie shoved Remus gently on the shoulder, and looked back to where they left the others. “We should probably turn back. Don’t want to miss the last bus, it’ll be a two hour walk otherwise.”

Remus was surprised how far they had walked, and the two of them hastened back to the swimming area, slipping on the wet rocks.

“Ey up,” Noah grinned at them as they approached. He was sat on the bank of the lake with the other two boys, drying off. “What yer been up to?”

“Nowt much, just went for a walk,” Freddie shrugged, avoiding eye contact. Noah was only two years older than them, but fourteen seemed like quite a mature age when you weren’t even a teenager yet. He had curly hair like Remus’s, but the ringlets were tighter and a rough, dirty-blonde colour.

“You shoulda got into the water, Remus. It were absolutely lush,” Chris said. He was the same age as Noah, although a little smaller. Alfie, the thirteen year old, was quiet as he slipped his shoes on.

“Come on lads, let’s cart off. My tea will be soon,” Noah began striding back back towards the bus stop. Chris held his hand out and helped Alfie to his feet, and the four of them trailed behind Noah.

Remus sat quietly on the bus ride home, not getting involved in the village boys' banter. It would be a year before he saw them again, and presumed they will have moved on and forgotten about him by then. Some days, Remus couldn’t believe his luck. He had been befriended by not just one, but two separate groups of boys in the past year, both eager for him to spend some time with them. He didn’t really understand it, if he was being honest. Remus often wondered how he came across to other people, and had come to the conclusion that he was a quiet, bookish, and most likely boring boy. He wasn’t much to look at; scrawny, pale, reasonably forgettable features, save for the silvery scar cut into his right cheek. He reckoned that if he wasn’t a wizard and a werewolf, he would be one of the dullest people to ever walk the earth.

Remus didn’t mean to be self-deprecating, but the honest truth was that it was just how he genuinely felt about himself. He didn’t wallow in it, or feel sit and feel sorry for himself — in his eyes, he merely saw himself realistically. As a child, appearances didn’t matter, and he spent such little time with others that he never really gave it a second thought. After being at Hogwarts, surrounded by people that radiated confidence and self-assurance, it was easy to feel as though you melted into the background. He didn’t care that much — Remus was not one to worry about his appearance or personality, instead adopting a rather blasé mentality that there was nothing he could do about it, so why waste time worrying about it? He hardly noticed what other people looked like, or judged them if they were a little on the quieter side, so why shouldn’t others do the same to him? Besides, he thought, as the bus lurched to a stop, does it matter _that_ much what other people thought about him? Remus came to the wonderful conclusion that actually he couldn’t care less what others thought, and stepped off the bus, feeling peculiarly light-hearted.

He bid goodbye to the village boys, and trudged back to the little cottage his father was renting. It was quite nice being outside in the setting sun, its golden rays casting a warm glow on the village and warming his back. He could hear the sound of crickets gently chirping in the distance, and pushed the creaky front door open. It was unlocked — hardly anyone in the village locked their doors, instead instilling trust in their neighbours that nothing would be stolen. The threadbare house was vacant, so Remus walked through to the tiny garden, dragging one of the garden chairs into the little suntrap. Sinking onto the chair, he peeled his jumper off, finally allowing his blemished arms to feel the heat of the sun. His scars seemed almost translucent in the glow, and Remus stretched out, enjoying the warmth on his face. Tomorrow night he would be at Hogwarts. It felt like a world away — back with magic, wands, potions and friends. For now though, Remus just enjoyed sitting quietly in his garden, his skin prickling under the heat of the slowly fading sun, feeling strangely at peace with the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title is I Had A Dream - Audience
> 
> Yorkshire/Derbyshire slang:  
> Reyt - all-right  
> Jammy bastard - lucky person  
> Mardy - grumpy  
> Nowt - nothing  
> Summat - something  
> Ey up - hello  
> Cart off - leave  
> Tea - dinner
> 
>   
> Really hope you're enjoying reading! :)


	9. Midnight Creeper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus starts his second year at Hogwarts after Sirius's silence the whole of summer.

_Walk a mile in my tennis shoes_

_Tina Turner gave me the highway blues_

_But I don't love nobody but you, honey_

_I'm true rat for the things I done_

_Second cousin to a son of a gun_

_I'm gonna wipe out your mama if she puts me on, honey_

If you were to ask Remus, he would swear that he was an independent person. He hated having to rely on others, and prided himself on his ability to get things done himself. His lonely childhood was a testament to that — he never once felt sorry for himself for not having friends, instead busying himself with books and fantasy lands. He was no stranger to walking around on his lonesome, he didn’t mind cooking meals by himself, and generally felt as though there was very little he couldn’t do without the presence of another person. Despite only being twelve, Remus was someone who believed he could get on quite fine by himself, thank you very much. People couldn’t let you down if you didn't give them the chance to do anything for you.

One thing that Remus had never done, however, was get on a train by himself. He’d been on countless buses, tube trains and even trams on his own, but never a proper long-distance train. Of course, there’s a first time for everything, and as Remus boarded the train that would take him from Sheffield to London St. Pancras, he couldn’t help but feel his stomach twist slightly with nerves. Whenever he began to feel anxious about anything anger would quickly take over, burning through his veins and scolding him for being so fearful. It would feel as though his head and his heart were having a boxing match; his heart worrying and fretting, apprehensive about the unknown, while his head rationalises, sternly telling the rest of his body to be reasonable, that being frightened about something was a complete waste of time.

Remus couldn’t put his finger on why getting a train was causing him so much inner turmoil, and angrily shook his head, hoping he would feel a little more normal once he got on the Hogwarts Express. It wasn’t a long journey down to London — a little over two hours on the train, then a short walk over the road from St. Pancras station to Kings Cross — yet Remus couldn’t help but feel weirdly paralysed with fear. He dragged his trunk to the luggage rack near the doors, and miserably traipsed down the carriage, looking for an empty seat to sit in.

He looked out of the scratched window to see his father stood lopsidedly on the platform. Lyall’s posture was awful, having done back-breaking manual labour for the best part of a decade, and he looked older than ever with his unshaven stubble on his face. He nodded as he saw his son was safely on the train, and turned quickly on his heel, heading out of the station. Remus sighed and placed his head against the window. Lyall had ridden the bus with him from Eyam, but couldn’t get the time off work to escort him all the way down to London. He assured his father that he didn’t mind, that he didn’t even have to take him into Sheffield, but Lyall wouldn’t hear it. For some reason, he was set on seeing his son on the train to London.

The conductor blew his whistle and the train chugged to life, slowly heaving out of the station. Remus stifled a yawn. He had to get up at 6am in order to catch the 8:05 train, and contemplated having a nap during the journey to London. There was something incredibly impractical about the Hogwarts Express leaving from London and not stopping once along the way, Remus thought to himself. It was bad enough that he had to travel south from Sheffield, but what if someone lived further north, such as Newcastle, or maybe even Scotland? Did those Hogwarts students still have to travel all the way to the south of England to get the train back up north again? Remus’s thoughts eventually lulled him to sleep, and it felt as though no time had passed when he woke suddenly as the train rolled into St. Pancras station.

He leapt from his seat, rushing to grab his trunk and clamber onto the platform. Now he was in London, he didn’t want to waste a single second of time. He almost felt as though he could feel the magic, and hurried out of the station and across the road into Kings Cross. Remus knew what he was doing with the barrier this year, yet still came to a stop in front of the space between platforms nine and ten. He could feel his arms tingling, and a shiver ran down his spine. His heart began beating erratically, and he nervously checked his watch. It was half-past ten, but he realised that he wasn’t sure when the barrier opened. Surely he would be able to get through now? There was only one way to find out. He took a deep breath, squeezed his eyes shut like he did last year, and walked boldly into the barrier. And there he was, stood on Platform 9 ¾.

Remus fought back a grin as he opened his eyes and looked up and down the platform, searching for any sign of his friends. There were already a few families stood clustered here and there, giving tearful farewells to tiny students, presumably first-years. Remus drew himself up to his full height, reassuring himself that he wasn’t that small last year.

“Remus!”

He whirled around to see James striding towards him, arms outstretched, a huge grin on his face.

“Oh, bloody hell, not you,” Remus joked as his friend pulled him into a quick hug.

“Charming! Considering I only got two letters from you all summer,” James laughed and slapped him on the shoulder. “It is good to see you though, mate. I’ve almost been feeling lonely this summer, with only Peter to hang out with. It’s not the same when we’re missing half the group.”

If Remus had any money, he would bet that he had a lonelier summer than James, but life really wasn’t a competition, and they were friends. Instead he just smiled.

“Sorry about that. Just didn’t work out in the end. Maybe next summer?”

“Yeah, that would be good! Did you hear from Sirius in the end?”

Remus bit the inside of his cheek and shook his head, worry threatening to crash into him again, “I only sent one letter but never got a response.”

“I think I sent thirty-six in the end,” James scratched his unruly hair, looking sheepish. “Dad still reckons he just got fed up of me, but that really doesn’t sound like Sirius. Even if he did decide he didn’t want to be my friend anymore he would’ve sent a letter back telling me to sod off.”

“Well, he’ll be here today and we’ll be able to ask him why he’s been ignoring us,” Remus reassured him, although he wondered if he believed his words himself. There was no denying that Sirius’s silence was uncharacteristic, and he desperately hoped that he would be able to provide a simple, carefree explanation for what happened once they saw him.

“Oh Merlin, heads up, my parents are coming over,” James blushed a deep shade of crimson as an ageing couple walked towards them.

The man was tall and slim, dressed in garnet coloured robes that matched the shade on James’s cheeks. He had a bright, slightly mischievous smile, and jet-black hair that was grey at the roots. The lady was a little shorter, her black hair twisted into an elegant up-do. Her robes were sky blue, and smiled warmly at Remus as they approached.

“Good morning! You must be Remus, we’ve heard so much about you,” James’s dad held out his hand and Remus shook it, in slight disbelief that any adult would be pleased to meet him.

“I’m Euphemia, and this is my husband Fleamont,” The lady said with a smile. “We were so sorry you couldn’t come and stay this summer, but the offer still stands if you’d like to come over Christmas or Easter.”

“Or next summer!” James interjected. Fleamont lovingly ruffled his son’s hair, and Remus felt a pang in his stomach.

“Of course, next summer as well,” Euphemia nodded.

“Mum, Dad, you know I’m grateful that you brought me here,” James spoke carefully, clearly not wanting to hurt his parents feelings. “I do appreciate it, but I _am_ a second-year now. I think—”

“We understand James,” Fleamont laughed and held his hands up in surrender. “We won’t embarrass you any more.”

“Send an owl once you’ve arrived safely, won’t you dear?” Euphemia asked, holding James gently by the shoulders. “Let us know about Sirius as well. I’m sure he’ll turn up.”

“I will! I promise,” James grinned at his parents. “Hope you have a good time without me.”

“I’m rather looking forward to a little bit of peace and quiet,” Fleamont chuckled.

Euphemia tutted at her husband and pulled James into a tight hug. Remus felt that pang in his stomach again, and averted his eyes to instead look at the Hogwarts Express.

“We will miss you beta. Have fun and work hard, won’t you?” Euphemia released James from her grasp, and he nodded fervently.

“The Marauders will make sure of that,” He grinned, and Remus noticed that Fleamont was smiling in precisely the same way. He waved as James’s parents stepped through the barrier, leaving them alone once again.

“Your parents seem really nice,” Remus admitted, hoping he didn’t sound bitter.

“Yeah, they’re alright. Did you hear what mum said about you coming to stay?” James asked. “She said the invitation extends to Sirius too, if we— oh look, there’s Pete!”

Peter had just walked through the barrier, flagged by a worried looking lady, the spitting image of him. Spotting his friends, Peter’s eyes widened and he quickly turned to his mother, whispering frantically to her. She nodded, enveloped him in a squishy hug, and tottered back towards the barrier. Peter turned and hurried towards Remus and James, grinning widely.

“Remus! Been a while,” He seized Remus and pulled him into a soft bear hug. “We really missed you this summer.”

“Shame, I didn’t miss you two at all,” Remus grinned, dodging a punch from James.

“In all these months we’ve spent apart, I’d almost forgotten how much of a sarcastic prat you are,” James shook his head.

Peter turned to Remus, “Have you heard from—”

“Nope,” Remus interrupted. “Nothing.”

“What’s the plan then?” Peter asked, looking thrilled to be back with his friends.

“I’ve been here since ten, watching the barrier. Thought we could just wait here until he comes through?” James suggested.

“Yeah, that’s a good idea,” Remus agreed. They didn’t discuss what they would do if Sirius didn’t show up, but privately Remus thought it was futile. They wouldn’t be able to find 12 Grimmauld Place even if they tried, and even if they did they would be no match for Sirius’s family. Their only hope was to wait and watch.

As the minutes ticked by more and more students came flying out from the barrier; some familiar, some not. Remus shyly waved at Lily as she passed, her freckles even darker after the summer. Soon the platform was full of throngs of people, clamouring to get onto the train. There was still no sign of Sirius.

“I’m starting to get a bit worried,” James stated plainly, at 10:55.

“What do we do if he doesn’t show up?” Peter asked, biting his nails.

“I almost think our best bet is to get on the train and talk to McGonagall at Hogwarts,” Remus said. “There’s nothing we can do here.”

“I’ll go straight to Grimmauld Place,” James bluntly said. “I don’t care what they’ll do to me, I’ll—”

“Don’t be an git James, you know the house is Unplottable. There’s literally nothing we can do,” Remus sighed, feeling as desperate as his friend, but trying not to show it.

“I agree with Remus,” Peter said, taking a step towards him as if to demonstrate his allegiance. “If something has happened then McGonagall, or even Dumbledore, will be able to sort it.”

James sighed, looking from the Hogwarts Express to the barrier. The conductor blew his whistle.

“Come on James, we can’t leave you here,” Remus urged, pulling his arm. “Let’s just get on the train.”

“Yeah, come on, we’re going to miss it!” Peter said frantically, hurrying towards the train.

James hesitated, pushed his glasses up his nose, and finally nodded, “Fine. We’ll get on the train.”

The conductor blew his whistle again, and Remus’s stomach started doing somersaults.

“Quick! Leg it!” He yelled, as he grabbed his trunk and ran towards the train, easily overtaking Peter. He flung a carriage door open, threw his trunk in and managed to scramble inside, pulling Peter in after him. James managed to jump on just as the train began to move, falling on top of the other two.

“Watch it!” Peter warned, brushing his hair out of his eyes.

James looked wretched. “I don’t think he would have left us behind,” He said miserably.

“I think you’re kidding yourself if you think you know what Sirius Black would do in any situation,” Remus sighed, and pushed himself into an unsteady seated position on the floor. “He always makes a point out of doing the least expected thing. He runs purely on impulse.”

“Don’t you know it’s rude to talk about people behind their backs?”

Remus nearly lost his balance. Sirius was leant against the opposite wall, arms crossed, smirking down at the three of them on the floor. Despite his smug expression, he looked gaunt; dark shadows circling his red-ringed eyes, his cheekbones looking more hollow than usual. His hair was roughly cut short, as if someone had grabbed some scissors in a fit of rage and tried to chop his hair without his consent. But it was still Sirius, and he was on the train.

“Sirius!” Peter cried, looking exuberant despite being in a crumpled heap on the floor.

“Alright? I don’t think you could’ve had a more dramatic entrance if you tried,” Sirius scoffed, not bothering to offer them a hand as they scrambled to their feet.

“Sirius Black, you absolute git and utter arse. What the hell were you playing at this summer?” James exploded, finally releasing his pent-up anger and worry, “I’ve been writing and writing, and you couldn’t be bothered to send me even one measly little letter! Bloody hell, you have no idea how worried I’ve been! Felt as thought I’d turned into my own mother! After what you told me about your family, then to get absolutely no response from you for months, blimey, you have no clue what was going through my head. I waited on the platform for an hour, hoping you’d come through the barrier and be okay. But no, you decide you’d rather just turn up out of the blue and make snarky comments. Merlin Sirius, you don’t half behave like an entitled little prat sometimes.”

Remus’s mouth fell open. He had never once heard James raise his voice, and never thought his wrath would fall upon Sirius, of all people. Peter looked as shocked as he did, but Sirius stood very still, his face unreadable. His jaw was clenched very tightly, muscles rippling in his jaw as he ground his teeth. James’s chest rose and fell quickly as he watched his friend, breathing heavily. It felt as though an eternity passed as they waited for Sirius to respond. He finally opened his mouth.

“If you think for one second that it was my decision not to send any letters the whole summer, then you really don’t know me at all,” Came his cold reply.

His words seemed to wash the rage out of James, and he instantly sagged, his face guilty, “Oh Merlin, Sirius, I am so sorry. I was just angry because I was so worried about you. I shouldn’t have said those things.”

Sirius shrugged, and looked out of the carriage window.

“Shall we try to find a compartment?” Remus suggested.

Sirius shrugged again, but Peter nodded, indicating down the carriage. They quickly found an empty compartment and piled in, pushing their trunks under the seats. Sirius was refusing to look at James, the tension so solid it was suffocating.

“Er, Peter, shall we go and see where the trolley is?” Remus suggested, jumping out of his seat. James nodded gratefully as they left the compartment, letting the two best friends have a proper conversation.

“Sirius wasn’t going to say anything while we were there,” Remus explained to Peter as they ambled down the carriages. “Even if James hadn’t had a go at him, he still would’ve acted as if everything was fine until they were alone. He’s a proud person, he doesn’t like people thinking he’s weak. All he can handle is one person knowing things at a time.”

“How come you know this?” Peter asked, trailing his finger along the windows as they walked.

Remus shrugged nonchalantly, “I dunno. I just know how he works. How my friends work, I mean.”

Peter nodded, but looked as though he didn’t quite understand.

***

By the time they made it back to their compartment, Peter’s arms laden with sweets, Sirius and James appeared to have made up. They spent the rest of the journey to Hogwarts joking and chatting about their holidays, Sirius very noticeably omitting any stories he had about his time spent at home. Their dynamic seemed to have returned to normal, and although Remus could tell that Sirius was making an extra effort to crack jokes and laugh, there was something missing. The glint of mischief and the hint of rebellion had vanished from his eyes. Sirius was obviously trying hard to behave as if nothing was wrong, but to Remus, it couldn’t be more obvious that something wasn’t quite right.

The Sorting Ceremony was a great deal less stressful now he was no longer a first-year, and Remus sat confidently in his seat, ready to join his house in cheering whenever a student was sorted into Gryffindor. The first few students were successfully sorted, and then Professor McGonagall read out a familiar name.

“Regulus Black.”

Everyone’s heads seemed to snap to look at Sirius. He was sat rigidly opposite Remus, staring with unblinking eyes as the boy slowly made his way towards the Sorting Hat. Regulus was unquestionably Sirius’s brother; with pale skin, high cheekbones and casually tousled raven hair. Remus recognised him from Kings Cross last year, when he laid eyes on Sirius for the first time.

The hall fell silent as Regulus sat down on the stool, just as it did for Sirius this time a year ago. The hat was slowly lowered on his head. Remus didn’t know which brother to look at. Time seemed to slow, and his stomach twisted itself into ropes, not sure what the best result would be.

“SLYTHERIN!”

Sirius petulantly jutted his chin forward, as if to say ' _I expected this, and I'm not surprised'_ , but Remus couldn’t help notice how his shoulders sagged slightly, a broken look of desperation flashing across his eyes.

“Sirius, you never said you had a brother!” Peter exclaimed, eager to diffuse the tension at the table.

“What? Yeah, I did,” Sirius said shortly, tearing his eyes away from Regulus, who was making his way towards the cheering table on the far left. “Don’t be an idiot, Peter.”

Peter blinked, obviously hurt by Sirius’s words. Remus nudged him with his shoulder, giving him a sympathetic look. When Sirius was in moods like this there would never be any point in trying to placate him — the best thing to do instead is to rectify any damage caused.

“You alright Sirius?” James bluntly asked, leaning to the side so he could see Sirius’s face better.

“Yes, I’m bloody alright,” Sirius snapped, turning and facing his friend. “Darling Regulus has done exactly what Mummy and Daddy have wanted, how splendid is that? At least one of their sons can get it right.”

James frowned, habitually pushing his glasses up his nose, “Alright mate, I get it, but you don’t have to take it out on us.”

“I’m not taking anything out on anybody,” Sirius muttered, turning back to the Sorting Ceremony. “I couldn’t give a toss.”

James removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh. The simple action made him look like a tired father struggling with an insolent child, and Remus felt a pang of anger towards Sirius. Whenever _he_ wasn’t happy, whenever _he_ was in a bad mood, he had to bring everyone around him crashing to the same level. It is almost as if a black cloud appears over his head, latching onto anyone who gets near and raining on them, infecting them with bad temper and eventually bringing their mood down too.

Regardless, Remus had no idea what happened to Sirius over the summer, and there was something in his silver eyes that reminded him of himself. He’d sometimes catch a glimmer of it in his reflection after a particularly harrowing transformation; the exhaustion of pain, the surrender to self-pity, the grim resignation that there was no way you could survive any more. Suddenly Remus felt his anger turn from Sirius and instead direct itself towards his parents. Sirius was not a malicious person at heart — it was sometimes almost as if his emotions were jumbled up and came out wrong, and that would be the reason why he would snap and snarl at people.

He felt sick to think of what could have happened at Grimmauld Place that destroyed Sirius beyond words. Remus could tell that James and Peter felt the same way, and although they may not understand it like Remus felt he could, he knew that they would do whatever they could to help and support Sirius. He chewed the inside of his cheek as he looked at Sirius, wondering what to do. Sirius’s eyes eventually flitted to his, and he offered him a small smile and a nod, hoping his eyes were saying what he was feeling. Sirius sighed loudly, placed his head momentarily on the table, then sat up quickly, flicking his ebony hair behind him. Just like that, he was back.

“How many more first-years are there? I’m starving,” Sirius propped his head up with one hand, tapping the table with his other. His eyes skipped defensively between his three friends, as if daring them to question how he was feeling, or why he drastically changed his mood in a matter of minutes.

James and Peter seemed happy to accept Sirius’s change of heart, but Remus couldn’t help but wonder how long he would be able to keep the façade up.

***

The feast was magnificent as ever, leaving the Marauders struggling to climb the stairs up to their dormitory due to the sheer amount that they ate.

“I don’t know when I’m going to learn my lesson and not gorge myself sick at the feasts,” Peter groaned as he flopped onto his bed.

Remus chuckled as he wandered over to his trunk, flipping the latch open, “You’ve got to try to exercise a bit of self-restraint, Peter.”

Peter groaned in response, and Remus fished his record player out, placing it carefully on Sirius’s book trunk that had been left over the summer.

“Anyone fancy a game of Exploding Snap? Or Wizard’s Chess? Or even Gobstones?” James asked, lying upside down on his bed, his head hanging over the side. Remus laughed and he quickly sat up, cheeks flushed. “What? Is it that obvious that I’ve been starved for company this summer?”

“Nah, you’re alright. I’ll play a round of Exploding Snap, if you want?” Remus turned to his record collection, searching for an album to play in the background.

“Pete, you in?”

“Stop calling me Pete! But yes, I’ll play.”

“Sirius?”

Sirius was curled on the windowsill. His face was turned towards the glass but Remus could tell he wasn’t looking at the grounds.

“Yeah, go on then,” He unfolded his long legs and jumped down from the windowsill, stretching out on the floor by the iron heater.

Remus slid _Honky Château_ from its sleeve and placed it on the turntable. He was sure Sirius would like the record; as soon as he heard _Honky Cat_ on the radio he thought of his friend and hurried to save up for the album, looking forward to playing it to him once they got to Hogwarts. He had hoped they would resume their little solo listening sessions, but thought Sirius would probably appreciate hearing the music now.

James’s upper half vanished as he dived head first into his trunk; clothes, books and Quidditch gear thrown around as he searched for his deck of cards. Peter protested loudly as the Invisibility Cloak landed on his head, momentarily making him look beheaded, and Sirius chuckled softly from the floor, catching Remus’s eye.

“Found them!” James stuck his hand out from his trunk, waving his singed deck of cards.

“Come on then,” Remus urged as he sat down opposite Sirius. “Haven’t got all night. Some of us have been up since six.”

“Sorry, farm boy,” James grinned and thumped down on the floor, Peter following suit. “I’ll deal.”

Although Remus had said he only wanted to play one round, they ended up playing five games of Exploding Snap, each round more aggressive and boisterous than the last. James’s glasses ended up black with soot, and Peter’s eyebrows got singed slightly, giving him a permanent look of surprise. After the game ended they sleepily pulled their pyjamas on and cleaned their teeth, Remus sliding contentedly between the sheets of his comfortable bed. It made his lumpy mattress back in Eyam seem like it was filled with rocks, and he happily snuggled into his pillow, feeling as though he had finally returned home.

The dormitory was silent, the only sounds being James’s heavy breathing and Peter’s little snores. Everything was still, and Remus lay quietly, his mind racing as it usually did when he got into bed. It always took him a while to get to sleep, and he didn’t know how long he lay there, staring up at the red canopy above him.

After a while he eyes began to flutter shut, but the unmistakeable sound of bed curtains being gently drawn brought him back to his senses. It was Sirius, Remus could tell where the sound was coming from; his remarkable hearing was another thing he had to thank the wolf bite for. Remus didn’t react, under the impression that his friend was heading straight for James’s bed, and shut his eyes again, hoping they wouldn’t talk too loudly. Surprisingly, Sirius’s footsteps softly padded past James’s bed, and came to a stop in front of Remus’s.

Remus’s eyes snapped open again, gripping his bedsheets tightly. It was almost as if he could feel Sirius’s presence; stood to the left of his bed, right by his knees. It seemed as though he was waiting for something, loitering uneasily, and Remus wondered if he should say something. His curtains eventually twitched open and Sirius poked his thin face through the gap. Remus was pleased with himself that he didn’t jump.

“Remus,” Sirius’s face was stony, his eyes like a stormy, unrelenting sea. He looked utterly hopeless.

Remus didn’t respond immediately, not wanting to ask the wrong question. He chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment, thinking deeply. He finally spoke, “Can’t sleep?”

Sirius shook his head, and swallowed harshly. “Would it be okay if I—” He abruptly stopped talking and frowned, as if debating whether to finish the question.

Remus understood. He lifted the corner of his bedsheets, nodding gently at Sirius. His grey eyes shone, and for a split second Remus worried he might burst into tears. The moment quickly passed, and Sirius crawled onto the bed, drawing the curtains shut behind him. He slipped under the bedsheets, exhaling deeply as he did so, as if he had been holding the breath in for a while.

They lay there for some time, both on their backs, staring up at the canopy above them. Out of the corner of his eye Remus could make out Sirius’s profile, his chin tilted slightly upwards, eyes seemingly unblinking. There was the tiniest slither of space between them, they were as far apart as they could be on the bed and weren’t touching, but Remus felt as though he could feel Sirius nonetheless.

“Why me?” Remus eventually whispered to the darkness.

Sirius didn’t turn his head, but murmured his reply, “Because you don’t ask questions. You just understand.”

Remus gnawed at the inside of his cheek again. It was a habit he had picked up over the summer, and now the inside of his mouth felt completely mangled, causing him to chew at it even more. He rolled onto his right side, so he was facing away from Sirius. He had never shared a bed with anyone before, and wasn’t sure which way he should look. His feet briefly brushed with Sirius’s as he moved, which felt like ice.

“Are you cold?”

“A bit. I’m warming up now.”

“I can get you a jumper if you want?” He felt as though offering a hug would be a little too much, and wanted to tread carefully.

“Yeah,” Came Sirius’s small reply. “Yes please.”

Remus leant over the side of his bed and fished around, grabbing his emerald jumper from the floor where he had dropped it earlier after giving up on unpacking. He passed it wordlessly to Sirius, who silently pulled it over his head, nodding gratefully as he leant back down on the pillow. He curled up into a tight ball, as if protecting himself, his back to Remus. Remus lay back down, rolling onto his right side again, shifting slightly until he was comfortable. Just as his eyes began to close, Sirius whispered again.

“Thank you Remus.”

***

The Marauders easily fell back into their usual routine at Hogwarts. Pranks were played, food was nicked from the kitchens, Professors were left exasperated and annoyed. Their work load had piled on considerably now they were second years, and Remus spent many evenings writing scrolls upon scrolls of parchment, or curled up by the fire doing the assigned reading.

One notable difference from the year before was that it became a habit of Sirius’s to creep into Remus’s bed at night. He would always be gone by the time he woke up, returning to his own bed in the early hours of the morning while Remus slept. Remus assumed he was ashamed of spending the night with him, and didn’t want James or Peter to know. They never discussed why Sirius would seek his warmth during the nights — there became a sort of unspoken acknowledgement that it would happen, and that nothing else needed to be said about it.

Sirius hadn't explicitly told Remus what happened to him over the summer, but Remus somehow felt as though he knew. There were several tense moments in the castle when Sirius would run into his brother with a gang of jeering Slytherins, and for the most part he would completely ignore him, and stalk off in the opposite direction with his nose in the air. Once or twice they saw Regulus by himself, and he would desperately beg his older brother to speak to him. Sirius wouldn’t have any of it, coldly telling him that there was nothing he had to say to him. It was days like those that Remus could be sure to expect Sirius to creep over to his bed later that night, nestling into his pillow with his face screwed up in anguish.

As the months dragged on Remus’s transformations left him feeling more and more drained. Madam Pomfrey was as kind-hearted as ever, and Remus knew he certainly prefered the Shrieking Shack over his dad’s cramped basement, but he couldn’t help but feel utterly broken whenever the sun came up. He had used almost every excuse under the sun on his friends, and lived in constant fear that someone would figure out his secret. The terror would grip him with icy fingers as he lay next to Sirius at night, desperately hoping that his pyjamas wouldn’t ride up and show his scarred and damaged skin. His excuse for the scar on his cheek was that he tripped and fell through a greenhouse window when he was younger, but wasn’t sure if that would be a convincing enough reason if anybody saw the skin beneath his clothes.

James had made the Gryffindor Quidditch team, and wouldn’t let anybody forget about it. He woke up earlier than he ever had before, practically skipping down to the Quidditch pitch for early morning drills with the team. The other Marauders sometimes followed him down, sitting in the stands and cheering in support as James zipped about in the air, nimble and graceful. Most of the time though, Peter was the one who showed the staunchest support, rarely missing a single practice, whereas Sirius and Remus favoured staying in the warm castle, listening to music. One day, shortly after Sirius’s thirteenth birthday, the two of them were lying on Remus’s bed, listening to _Rubber Soul_. Remus had a soft spot for the Beatles, and Sirius seemed to be happy to listen to anything he put on. The first match of the Quidditch season was only days away, meaning James and Peter were rarely seen in the castle when not in lessons.

“Do you reckon we’ll win?” Remus asked as he lazily flicked through _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2._

Sirius gave Remus a look, “You’re joking, right? Of course we’ll win. I overheard Caradoc saying James is the best Chaser Gryffindor’s had in decades.”

“I hope he didn’t hear that. I didn’t think his ego could get any bigger, but then this year happened.”

Sirius snorted, “Fat chance. Have you noticed what he’s started doing to his hair?”

“Messing it up so it looks like he’s just stepped off a broom? Yeah, I noticed.”

“What an absolute loser.”

They both chuckled. Sirius yawned and stretched out, draping his arms over the side of the bed. Remus found the chapter he was looking for, but didn’t start reading, even though his eyes were fixed on the page.

“I just wanted to protect him,” Sirius suddenly said. Remus’s eyes flicked over the top of his book to Sirius, who was now holding his hands over his face. “At Hogwarts, he could finally get away from them, they’d finally stop poisoning him. I told him if he got sorted into Gryffindor I could protect him, that they wouldn’t be able to do anything if neither of us were in Slytherin. He’s my little brother. He’s the only person on the planet who understands what I’ve been through.”

Remus gently closed his book and slipped it onto his bedside table. He pulled his knees tight to his chest, eyes trained on Sirius.

“They’re going to corrupt him. Narcissa, Avery, Mulciber, Yaxley, Rosier… They’re all friends of the family or cousins or relatives in some way. They’re going to do my mother’s bidding and take him under their wing. He’s lost and there’s nothing I can do,” Sirius bitterly spat out the final few words, pressing his hands down hard onto his face.

“Why don’t you talk to him?” Remus gently suggested, hoping he wasn’t overstepping the line. “Pushing him away is only going to make things worse.”

Sirius threw his hands away from his face and turned to look at him, “It’s too late. He stopped asking me to talk weeks ago. There’s nothing I can do.”

“It’s never too late, but it’s your decision whether you want to speak to him,” Remus picked his book back up. “I’m sure he still wants to speak to you.”

Sirius made a strangled noise and pulled himself into a seated position, looking conflicted, “You really think I should talk to him?”

“Well yeah, that’s what I think, but so what? I can’t force you to do anything you don’t want to.”

“Too right,” Sirius grinned, looking as though a weight had lifted from his shoulders. “Shall I flip the record over?”

“Yeah, or put a different one on if you want, I don’t mind.” Remus turned a page in his book as Sirius got off the bed and made his way over to the record player, lost in thought. For some reason, deep down, he hoped Sirius would follow his advice, but there was no knowing what Sirius would do. Sometimes it was almost as if Sirius himself didn’t know what he was doing, only making a decision at the very last minute. Only time would tell what he would do in regards to his brother.

***

The first Quidditch match of the season fell on the full moon, meaning Remus was incredibly irritable for the duration of the match. His body ran hot and cold as he sat in the stands, barely having the energy to cheer as James scored point after point. Emma Vanity, the Slytherin Quidditch Captain, had a thunderous scowl as she screamed at her beaters to try and catch James out, but to no avail. He was too quick for the bludgers — a scarlet flash in the air as he intercepted the quaffle and passed to his teammates.

In the end Gryffindor won — scoring an impressive 250 points to Slytherins’ measly 90. A party was held in the common room afterwards, and luckily in all the chaos Remus was able to slip away without anyone noticing and hurry to the Hospital Wing.

Madam Pomfrey tutted loudly when she saw Remus’s flushed cheeks, knowing that he had spent several hours sat in the biting cold watching the match. She didn’t scold him, but plucked an extra blanket out of one of the cupboards in the Hospital Wing, draping it over his shoulders as they walked down to the Shrieking Shack. Remus wasn’t sure what he did to deserve her, and his gratefulness and appreciation of the kind hearted Matron slammed into him yet again.

***

Christmas crept up suddenly, Hogwarts once again undergoing its transformation into a winter haven. Remus loved the cold weather — any opportunity to pile on layers of clothes and curl up by the fire with a mug of tea and a book was one worth taking, in his opinion. As far as he was aware, Sirius had not yet spoken to Regulus, but was doing everything in his power to make his housemates think he couldn’t care less about the whole situation.

Luckily, the full moon fell early on in the month, leaving Remus with a werewolf free Christmas period. James asked the Marauders if they would like to spend the holiday down at his parents house in Kent, and Remus shyly agreed, not wanting to spend the day alone.

When James had mentioned he had a big house, Remus imagined a detached, airy house, with a decent sized living area and two or three bedrooms. He couldn’t have been more wrong. Potter Manor was a huge country home, with ivy creeping up between the stone bricks. As you walked in you were greeted by a grand reception hall, with a sweeping split staircase directly in front, leading to the other floors of the house. Euphemia bustled the Marauders straight through to the warm kitchen, telling them that Side-Along Apparition gives you a massive appetite for food. Although Remus suspected this was a just a ploy to get them to eat, he didn’t complain as he scoffed down the Hyderabadi biryani and chapati.

Once they had eaten, Euphemia insisted that they went to bed and the Marauders didn’t resist. For once they did as they told and sleepily trooped upstairs, Fleamont directing them to their separate rooms like a Butler. Remus hardly had a chance to marvel at the sheer amount of guest bedrooms the Potters had, instead collapsing, exhausted, on the soft double bed.

He woke the next morning to sunlight streaming in through the window and stretched, his groggy brain slowly waking up. Before he had time to orient himself the door of his room banged open, and James bounded in, impossibly full of energy.

“Morning Remus! Sleep alright?” James grinned as he launched onto Remus’s bed, bouncing excitedly on the corner. “Peter’s refusing to get up and I can’t remember which room Dad put Sirius in. Fancy helping me find him?”

Remus couldn’t help but scoff. The fact that the Potters had so many guest bedrooms that they could forget which one their guest was in was such a ludicrous problem to have, and he couldn’t help wonder what his father would think of this lavish display of wealth. James, although fiercely loyal and thoughtful towards his friends, was still undeniably a spoilt child, and Remus felt as though the difference in their upbringings couldn’t have been more apparent.

James cocked his head, still waiting for Remus’s reply, and he rolled his eyes and clambered out of bed, looking for a jumper to pull over his pyjamas.

They went and collected Peter, who only got out of bed after James threatened to pour cold water over his head. The three boys began searching the manor for Sirius, peering in room after room to no avail. They eventually gave up and headed down to the kitchen, towards the mouth-watering smell of freshly baked bread. They could hear chatter as they got closer, and finally discovered Sirius, lazing at the kitchen table, having an animated discussion with Euphemia, who was pulling a loaf of sourdough out of the oven.

“I can’t believe my eyes,” James exclaimed as they walked in. “Has Sirius Black woken up on his own accord?”

Sirius raised a dark eyebrow, fighting back a grin, “Just wanted to give Effie a bit of company, what’s wrong with that?”

“Effie?!” James spluttered, his face turning pink. “How have you got nicknames for my—”

“Good morning Mrs Potter,” Remus interrupted, walking around his gesticulating friend.

“Good morning Remus! Please call me Euphemia,” Euphemia said, smiling mischievously. “Or Effie, either is fine.”

James appeared to be choking on something, and Peter unhelpfully slapped him on the back.

“What would you boys like for breakfast? I’ve just made some bread but I’m sure Cilly would happily cook some bacon and eggs if you'd like a full English.”

Remus assumed Cilly was the name of their house-elf. Most well-off wizarding families seemed to have one, and while Remus still couldn’t understand _why_ you would want one, he had learned not to judge the old wizarding ways.

“Bacon and eggs would be lovely, thank you Euphemia,” Peter said gratefully as he sat down next to Sirius.

Euphemia flicked her wand and a small house-elf appeared with a loud _crack_. She had a large nose and flappy ears, and instantly turned to Euphemia, smiling widely and bowing so her nose brushed the floor.

“What can Cilly do for you, Mistress?”

Remus noticed that Cilly wasn’t dressed in rags, like the house-elves in the kitchens at Hogwarts. Instead, she was dressed in what must have been one of Euphemia’s colourful scarves, folded and pinned so it fit her skinny frame. _Of course, the Potters were the type of family who would have free house-elves_ , Remus thought to himself with a smile.

“Would you mind cooking a full English for the boys? I’ve got a few errands I’ve got to run.”

“Of course, it would be Cilly’s pleasure, Mistress. Let me know if there’s anything else that I can do for you.”

“Thanks Cilly,” Euphemia turned to look at the Marauders, who were now sat at the kitchen table, jostling each other. “I’m off to do a spot of Christmas shopping. James, try not to burn the house down while I’m away.”

James grinned in response, and Euphemia ruffled his hair, smiling adoringly at her son. Everyone bid their goodbyes, and she was gone.

“Right, I’ve got a lot of ideas. I was thinking we could go to Diagon Alley tomorrow, and then maybe the next day head into Muggle London? Split it up over two days so we’re not in a rush. Play some Quidditch some days, of course, then on Saturday it’s Mum and Dad’s annual Christmas party. No chance we’ll be able to get out of that, and then it’s Christmas Eve then Christmas and then—”

“I think we know how the dates work, mate,” Sirius said with a laugh.

“Don’t worry about planning anything out,” Remus assured James. “We’re going to have a good time whatever we do.”

“Diagon Alley does sound like a good idea though,” Peter said earnestly.

Cilly brought over four plates piled high with sausages, bacon, eggs, beans and hash browns, and the Remus thanked her sincerely as she put his plate in front of him.

“We’ll do the washing up Cilly, thanks for cooking for us,” James said, pushing some beans onto his fork.

“Are you sure, Master James? Cilly is happy to clean up.”

“It’s fine, we can do it!” James assured. Cilly bowed again, and with a _crack_ she was gone.

“I wouldn’t dream of offering to wash up in my house,” Sirius said, looking unsure if he wanted to make a joke out of it. “Our house-elf would take it so personally he’d probably end up slitting my throat while I sleep. That is, if my mother didn’t get to me first.”

Peter chuckled nervously, eyes shooting to James to see how he reacted. James chewed on his beans, contemplatively.

“What’s on the itinerary for today then, James?” Remus asked, reaching for the butter dish.

“How does a spot of Quidditch sound?”

Remus groaned loudly but Sirius perked up and nodded, while Peter commented on how the weather was absolutely _perfect_ for a game. Remus rolled his eyes but fought back a grin, looking forward to spending some time with his friends outside of Hogwarts, even if they were adamant that they would be playing Quidditch. His Christmases seemed to be getting better and better, and he definitely had no complaints.

Despite its size, Potter Manor was cosy — love and affection was rife in every room, and it was clear James had a childhood where he never had to wonder how his parents felt about him. Remus couldn’t even bring himself to feel bitter or jealous, and was just happy that his friend had experienced what he longed for. He caught Sirius’s eye and they shared a smile. He wondered if Sirius was thinking the same thing, and hoped he would be able to take his mind off his family, even just for a little while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song info:  
> The chapter title is Midnight Creeper - Elton John  
> Honky Château [album] - Elton John  
> Rubber Soul [album] - the Beatles


	10. I Can't Change It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus enjoys Christmas at the Potter's and revelations are made back at Hogwarts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been a bit of a while since I've posted, life just got in the way a bit!  
> I'm still going to try and post a chapter every month or so but if it takes a little longer then don't worry, I'm not going to abandon the fic - I've got too much of it planned :) Hope you enjoy the chapter, every view, kudos and comment makes my day <3

_My friends can't find some things I say_

_Must be the way I say those things_

_My friends can't find some things I do_

_Must be the way I do those things_

_I can't change it_

_But I'm trying to do right_

Sirius Black couldn’t walk in a straight line. Whether they were ambling down Diagon Alley or mooching around Soho, he would be next to Remus, jostling his elbow and bumping into his shoulder as he darted about excitedly. It was just another one of Sirius’s many quirks that Remus had come to get used to — that, along with his adamant refusal to get up early in the morning, and his inability to sit normally on a piece of furniture.

Sirius was the Marauders self-appointed tour guide as he knew London the best, yet Remus found himself explaining most of the history of the locations they were at. They walked from Carnaby Street down Regent Street, coming to a stop at Trafalgar Square, where Remus told them who the bloke on top of the column was. James was beside himself with the large bronze lions that sat around the base, insisting that Nelson _must_ have been a wizard, and of course, _must_ have been sorted into Gryffindor. He and Sirius scrambled up the pedestals and sat on the lions, beaming, completely beside themselves for several precious moments before a policeman came running over, blowing his whistle.

Although Peter, James and Sirius were fascinated with Muggle London; pointing and laughing in delight at the buses, shops and art galleries (“Look Remus, the paintings don’t even _move_!”), Remus was absolutely floored by Diagon Alley. There was so much to look at, so much to listen to, so much that demanded his attention that he hardly knew what to do with himself. James and Sirius would rush about, running into shops and emerging with bags laden with goods. Peter and Remus would loiter behind them, lacking the seemingly endless budget that the other two boys had.

The Potter’s Christmas party was unexpectedly quite fun, despite Remus believing that it would be full of stuffy old grownups doing stuffy old grownup things. Admittedly, there were a couple of boring looking adults milling around, but the Potters were not the type of family to stay acquainted with uninteresting people. Remus wandered around, a chilled glass of pumpkin juice in one hand, keeping an eye out for Sirius. James was doing his best at being a young host, making sure everyone’s drinks were topped up and directing them towards the toilets.

“We like to give Cilly the evening off when we have our Christmas party,” Euphemia explained earlier, as they were rearranging some furniture. “She helps us clean up the morning after, but it just feels a little more Christmassy if we’re the ones looking after our guests.”

Peter was nowhere to be seen, although chances were he was trailing after James, trying but failing to be helpful. He spotted Sirius in the corner of the drawing room, having an animated conversation with a tall wizard, dressed in shimmering emerald robes. Remus looked around for a friendly face, ideally someone who wasn’t already engrossed in conversation, and spotted someone.

“Frank!”

“Oh— hello Remus! Blimey, you’ve got tall, haven’t you?” Frank Longbottom smiled brightly as Remus moved forward to shake his outstretched hand. “How are you? How’s Hogwarts?”

“Yeah, all’s good,” Remus realised with a pang that he hadn’t sent any letters to either Frank or Alice, and chewed his lip. Frank seemed to realise what he was thinking about.

“If you’re remembering that you haven’t sent us any letters, don’t worry about it,” Frank pouted, swirling his champagne flute elegantly. “We’ve cried ourselves out now, so we no longer care.”

Remus tilted his head, sympathetic, “You don’t have to make me feel guilty about it. It just slipped my mind, I’m sorry.” 

Frank waved a hand, smiling, “Nah, don’t worry about it. We’ve moved now anyway, living in London now! Got a tiny flat near Camden. You should come visit sometime.”

“Ah, that’s great! Is Alice here?” Remus looked around the room, as if expecting to suddenly see her strawberry blonde curls.

Frank nodded, “Yeah, she’s here somewhere. Don’t ask me where though, this place is like a maze.”

“What are you up to now, anyway?”

“We’re doing our Auror training. Our boss is here actually, at the party. Bit awkward,” Frank grinned sheepishly. “Feel like I should watch what I drink. Really don’t want Moody to see me blotto.”

Remus nodded, suddenly feeling rather childish with his juice, “You enjoying the training?”

“Oh yeah, it’s—”

“Why, if it isn’t Frank Longbottom! I haven’t seen you in years!” A tottering old man interrupted, stumbling his way over. “I had tea with your mother no so long ago.”

Frank shot an apologetic look to Remus, who took the hint and backed away. Again, it seemed as though everyone in the wizarding community knew each other, in one way or another. He hesitated for a moment, wondering if he should try to join Sirius, then dismissed the thought and decided to try another room, to see if he would have any more luck with Peter. He crossed the threshold and came to a stop when he heard low voices.

“—even recruiting giants.”

“So I heard,” Remus recognised Fleamont’s voice, sounding weary. “It seems he’s gathering an army of sorts.”

“He’s on the rise,” The first voice growled. “The goblins are neutral for now, but I think we need to be prepared for—”

“Remus!” Fleamont’s voice boomed.

Remus sheepishly rounded the corner and came face-to-face with his host. He was stood opposite a brute of a man, with a heavily scarred face that almost made Remus wonder if he too was a werewolf. He had a long, slightly grimy leather overcoat on, and was leaning on a gnarled walking stick.

“I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop,” Remus said, not wanting Fleamont to think him untrustworthy.

“Not to worry,” Fleamont smiled. “Have you met Alastor Moody?”

“I haven’t, no. Nice to meet you,” Remus smiled, holding out his hand. Moody took it and shook, his skin coarse against Remus’s.

“What did you say your name was?” Moody asked, bushy eyebrows knitted together.

“Remus. Remus Lupin.”

“Lupin? You don’t happen to be a relative of Lyall’s?” Moody’s eyes were dark as he surveyed Remus.

Remus felt his stomach drop. He had never met someone who knew his father. “He’s my dad.”

If that piece of information meant anything to Moody, it didn’t show. Instead, his dark eyes remained impassive. “I knew him,” Moody spoke brusquely, as though he only had time for facts. “Great wizard. Shame he left.”

Remus blinked. It was strange, hearing about his dad, and he wasn’t sure if it was reassuring or off-putting. “How did you know my father?”

“Met him while he worked at the Ministry,” Moody leant heavily on his walking stick — Remus now realised it was a staff of some sort — and rooted around in the inner pocket of his coat. “Had some overlap.”

“The Ministry?” Remus was baffled. His father had told him very little of his life prior to that fateful night. It was a topic that neither of them were ever keen to discuss.

“Yes,” Moody surveyed him as he took a swig from a flask he found in his coat. “He was in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures,” He paused, as if wondering to continue. “Clever man. Didn’t half have a mouth on him though.”

Remus was quiet, his mind running through the information. The idea that his father had led a life, a normal life at that, before everything went wrong was mind-boggling. It occurred to him that he had never once thought to wonder what his father might have been like before he lost everything.

“Why don’t you run and check the gramophone, Remus?” Fleamont asked kindly. Perhaps he had noticed how lost Remus looked, or maybe he just wanted to get back to his conversation with Moody. “You’re welcome to put some of your records on, if you like.”

Remus nodded, “I hope you have a good Christmas, Mr Moody.”

Moody’s ragged face cracked into something akin to a smile, and bowed his head slightly. “Merry Christmas to you too, Mr Lupin.”

***

Remus felt a little more prepared for Christmas this year, having the foresight to teach himself a skill that would help him create some presents for his friends. He had taken up knitting — begrudgingly, wearily, reluctantly — as it was possibly the cheapest (and only) way he could manage to give his friends some gifts this year. Whenever Sirius had a good day at Hogwarts and Remus could be certain he would be spending the night in his own bed, he would draw his bed curtains tight and mutter a silencing spell. Lily had taught him how to cast _Muffliato_ after he noticed that whenever she was having a private conversation with a friend they could never be overheard, even if you were sat near them and they didn’t seem to be whispering. The silencing spell was crucial — the clicking of knitting needles was alarmingly loud in the quietness of the dorm as the other three drifted to sleep, and Remus dreaded to think what they would say if they knew the real reason he looked so tired every morning.

His first creation, a mustard and teal coloured scarf for Peter, was a bit of a mess. He dropped stitches here and there and the rows were uneven, but he was beyond pleased with it — it was the first thing he had ever created and felt somewhat attached to it. Next was a red beanie for James, which was considerably more tricky, but he managed to create some sort of hat shape in the end. Finally, he knitted some navy fingerless wrist warmers for Sirius. He would always complain about how cold his hands got while flying, and Remus thought it could potentially help warm him up.

Christmas Day at the Potter’s was unlike anything he’d ever experienced. Granted, at Hogwarts it was slightly more extravagant, but the Potter’s made it warm and welcoming. He woke to James throwing himself onto his bed, shaking him by the shoulders and shouting “IT’S CHRISTMAS!” at the top of his voice. They went and woke the other two, and trooped downstairs to the living room where the twelve foot tree stood. Euphemia gave each of the boys a big hug when she saw them, and Fleamont stood by the fireplace, beaming from ear to ear.

Remus hardly paid any attention to the gift exchange; sitting hunched in the armchair, jiggling his leg, worrying that his friends would turn their noses up at his embarrassingly home-made presents. He delayed as long as he could, slowly opening the gifts from his friends and asking Euphemia if he could help with breakfast. Eventually James’s parents drifted towards the kitchen, muttering something about starting on the potatoes. Remus realised he was making a bigger deal out of it than it was, and reluctantly handed out the parcels he had hidden under the sofa. He ignored James’s protests that he shouldn’t have got them anything, and gruffly crossed his arms, nodding at them to unwrap. He could hardly look as his friends ripped the brown paper apart, letting the soft knitted goods fall into their laps.

There was a brief moment of silence, and Remus felt as though his lungs were seizing up inside him. They hated the presents, he knew they did, and they were just being too nice to say so. He stood up quickly, and went to leave the room, but Sirius suddenly grabbed him by the arm.

“Remus,” Sirius’s voice was low. “Did you knit these?”

Remus pulled his arm from Sirius’s grasp and finally turned to face his friends, his cheeks burning red. “Yes,” He said shortly.

“Properly?” James’s eyes were wide. “Like, without a spell?”

“Yes,” Remus repeated, clenching his jaw tightly. “It was the only thing I could aff—”

“They’re amazing,” Sirius said sincerely, pulling his wrist-warmers on. “I can’t believe you did that for us.”

“Thank you so much Remus!” Peter wrapped the scarf around his neck. “Mum always says mustard’s my colour,” He wrinkled his nose. “Though I reckon she only says that because she was mentally preparing me to get sorted into Hufflepuff.”

“Yeah, thank you so much,” James jumped to his feet and pulled Remus into one of his tight hugs. “I’ve needed a hat for ages!”

Remus could hardly speak, feeling strangely bashful as his friends complimented his needlework. Truthfully, it was a situation he never imagined himself to be in, and almost felt like laughing at how ludicrous it was.

“I don’t understand how you had the time to make these,” Sirius admitted, smirking. “You’re always in the library or mucking about with us, it’s a miracle you managed it without us noticing.”

Remus found his voice and managed to grin, “I have my ways,” He tapped the side of his nose.

“Thank you, though,” Sirius murmured in his ear as James mimed strangling Peter with his scarf. “It’s the most thoughtful present I’ve ever received,” He suddenly looked at a supposedly very interesting spot on the floor. “It means a lot.”

Remus scratched the back of his head awkwardly, not knowing where to look.

“Come on boys, you can get started on the brussel sprouts!” Euphemia called from the kitchen.

The Marauders clambered to their feet, and jostled their way through to the kitchen. Each of Remus’s friends kept their knitted gifts on as they helped Euphemia and Fleamont with the meal prep, and Remus felt as though his heart couldn’t get any bigger.

Later, when they had eaten more than was physically possible, they lounged around the living room, half-heartedly playing various games. Remus had taught them how to play some Muggle games, and they had a bizarre but incredibly competitive round of Celebrity. Sirius had to act out Dumbledore, and did a startlingly accurate impression of him giving a speech at the beginning of term. Remus lay sprawled on the carpet and ate mince pies, reluctantly clambering to his feet whenever it was his turn to act something out. That evening as he was drifting off to sleep, he realised that for the entirety of their time at the Potter’s, Sirius hadn’t visited his bed once.

In the end, the Christmas holiday seemed to fly by, and it almost felt as though no time had passed when they finally arrived back at Hogwarts. The Marauders settled back into their routines — James spending every spare minute on the Quidditch pitch with Peter in tow, Sirius skulking around the corridors, pretending he was trying to avoid Regulus, and Remus in the library, sometimes with Lily, pouring over their homework and practising new spells.

“Honestly, Remus, I don’t mean to be rude, but I just don’t understand why you’re friends with them.”

Remus sighed, placed his quill on his parchment, and looked up at Lily. They were sat at their favourite table in the library; the one right in the corner with the most amount of sunlight, with the comfortable chairs that didn’t creak as much as you shifted in them. In the direct sun Lily’s eyelashes and eyebrows were barely visible; bleached white against her pale skin. She was squinting slightly, her dark red hair looking as though it was aflame.

“They’re not as bad as you think they are,” Remus steepled his fingers under his chin and surveyed Lily. “They can be immature sometimes—” Lily snorted. “—Okay, they’re immature nearly all of the time, but they’re my mates. Nothing’s going to change that.”

“Did you hear what happened to the Hufflepuffs and Slytherins the other day? During their Herbology class?”

Remus paused, trying to keep a poker face, “No, I didn’t. What happened?”

“Well, I’m not going to sit and gossip,” Lily said briskly, skimming through _Magical Drafts and Potions_. “But I heard that there was some sort of incident and the whole class was affected by the bat-bogey hex,” She leant back in her chair and folded her arms. “Ring any bells?”

“Not a single chime,” Remus responded, trying not to smirk as he ducked his head down and looked at his parchment. “How many sprigs of lavender are needed for a Sleeping Draught again?”

“Four,” Lily answered, without even looking at her textbook. “I just don’t know how you put up with Potter and Black. Especially Potter. His ego is just,” Lily seemed lost for words, and waved her hands in the air. “God, you know. He’s just so arrogant! He’s such a—”

“Cocky bastard?” Remus suggested. Lily’s eyes widened slightly and her mouth curved into a smile.

“Yeah. That’s probably what I was trying to say, in so many words,” She smirked. “Anyway, whatever, boys will be boys, won’t they? How many inches have you got left to write?”

They worked until Madam Pince hurried over and told them to leave, so they leisurely packed up their things and strolled amicably through the castle towards the common room. The sounds of a very heated discussion got louder and louder, and Remus recognised one of the haughty voices immediately. There was no other way to the tower, so Remus and Lily reluctantly turned down the corridor that the voices were coming from.

There was Sirius, gesticulating angrily as he shouted at his brother in front of him. Regulus was flat against the wall, his jaw tight and fists clenched, but eyes pleading.

“You’re blaming me for something I had no control over!”

“No control! You and I both know that’s not true. You wanted this.”

“Do you really think—”

The smaller boy gave a start when he noticed Remus and Lily trying to quietly sneak past. Sirius’s head whipped around, his eyes instantly meeting Remus’s. He looked exhausted; cheeks pink with dark bags under his eyes.

“I’m so sorry, we didn’t mean to interrupt,” Lily gave Sirius a weird look that Remus couldn’t decipher. It was almost as if she somehow had some understanding of tough sibling relations. “We’ll be out of your way in a moment,” She went to pull Remus after her, but Sirius suddenly grabbed his arm.

“Remus is staying here. With me.”

Regulus cocked his head, but didn’t say anything.

“Sirius, this is a private conversation,” Remus began, feeling uncomfortable. “I don’t think—”

“I want you here. I need you here, really. In case I do something stupid,” Sirius sighed and let go of his arm, fixing him with his silver flecked eyes. “Please.”

Remus looked at him, frowning slightly. “Alright,” He looked back at Lily, “I’ll see you later.”

She nodded, tight-lipped, and swiftly left the corridor. Remus turned back to Sirius.

“Is this—” Regulus began.

“Yes. This is my Halfblood friend. So sorry, the Pureblood ones aren’t around,” Sirius looked at his brother with complete disdain. “Don’t worry, it's not contagious.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Regulus countered, frowning. “Don’t make this into something it isn’t.”

“Then what is it?” Sirius scowled, his dark eyebrows tightly knitted together. “We’ve clearly got different views now. Different views on things that matter.”

Regulus sighed and ran a hand through his hair contemplatively. His hair was considerably shorter than Sirius’s, who had been growing his out since the summer. “I’m not like you.”

Sirius snorted, “That’s an understatement.”

“I know what you wanted me to do,” Regulus’s shoulders sagged as he slumped against the wall. “But I just couldn’t do it. I’m not as strong as you. Mother and Father… I knew I couldn’t handle it, if they—”

“I told you I’d protect you!” Sirius burst out, trembling slightly as he spoke. “All through summer I told you I wouldn’t let them do to you what they were doing to me. Besides, I don’t think they’d ever lay a finger on you,” Sirius’s voice broke slightly, and his tone dropped to barely a whisper. “They always preferred you. Said they got it right the second time round.”

Regulus shook his head, as if refusing to let Sirius’s words enter, “You’ve just got to play by their rules. You’re acting as if it’s all over for you, but you’ve still got a chance.”

“You think I want a chance?” Sirius laughed, but it was a cold sound. “I’m done with it all. Finished. I don’t care about a single person in that decrepit family. Nobody except you.”

Regulus looked as though he was struggling not to cry, “I don’t know what you want me to do. I’m in Slytherin, nothing’s going to change that.”

“We can go to Dumbledore now,” Sirius urged. “Tell him it was a mistake.”

“What good’s that going to do?” Regulus rubbed the back of his hand on his pointed chin. “This is the only way.”

“Are you—” Sirius opened his mouth but no words came out. He looked at Remus, paralysed, eyes desperate, but Remus didn’t know what to say. He didn’t even know what he was doing there.

“Life at home would be a lot easier if you just play the game, Sirius,” Regulus was begging him now. “Just keep your mouth shut and play the game.”

Sirius shook his head, “It’s not a game, Reg. You know it’s wrong, the things they believe in. Coming here was the final straw for me. I was unsure for a while, but Hogwarts taught me to open my eyes. It’s like I can finally see clearly, and I now know how wrong it all was.”

“I’m not asking you to believe in it. Just play along,” Regulus’s grey eyes were shining with tears now.

“I can’t,” Sirius’s voice cracked again. “You shouldn’t have to either.”

Regulus rubbed his lips together, “I’m not like you, Sirius. I can’t stand up to them.”

“I told you, I can protect—”

“You can’t. There’s no protection in that house. You of all people should know that.”

Sirius inhaled sharply, blinking rapidly as though he was fighting tears back. “You’re my little brother, Reg. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

Regulus sighed, “I’ve got no choice. You may not want to play the game, but I have to. You can’t change it,” He pushed himself off the wall and looked up at his brother. “I’m sorry, Sirius, but you have to understand.”

Sirius couldn’t seem to look at him, “They’ll destroy you. They all will.”

“I’m too smart to let that happen,” Regulus paused, as if waiting for his brother to speak, but there was silence. He sighed again, and looked away, “Goodbye, Sirius. I expect we won’t speak until we’re back home,” He turned and walked down the corridor, his robes billowing behind him.

Sirius staggered and Remus caught him, peering anxiously at him. His face was screwed up in anguish, forehead deeply furrowed in lines.

“I can’t do this,” He whispered. “I care about him too much.”

“I know,” Remus said, as he helped Sirius stand up straight. “I know.”

***

Sirius was in a weird mood for days after his argument with Regulus. He started hexing Slytherins unprovoked in the corridor, not caring if he got caught. He stopped doing his homework, would snap at Peter, and refused to eat at mealtimes. James did everything he could to make his friend happier again, but it was futile. Remus knew that when Sirius was in one of his moods there was nobody who could drag him out of it. Sirius would only snap out of it when he wanted to, and no earlier.

For the most part, Remus left him to it. He wasn’t one to pry, and knew Sirius well enough that he would only speak when he wanted to tell him something. He already felt as though he had overstepped some line by being present in his conversation with Regulus, and thought Sirius might feel uncomfortable now that Remus knew more about his family. There was that weird bond again; the feeling that he knew what Sirius wanted before he made any indication to it.

“We’ve got to do something about this,” James said as he flung himself onto a sofa in the common room. “It’s been nearly two weeks now. It can’t go on, I’m fed up of writing out all my essays twice.”

“You know, you don’t have to do his homework for him,” Remus said idly as he kicked his shoes off. He much preferred curling up in the armchair in his socks. “I think worrying about his grades is definitely bottom of the list for him at the moment.”

“Still,” James continued, throwing his quaffle into the air and catching it. “I think it’s time for an intervention.”

Remus scoffed, “An intervention? What would you call what you’ve been doing these past couple of weeks then?”

James looked as though he wanted to throw the quaffle at Remus, but restrained himself. “I’ve just been letting him know that we’re here for him. Looking out for him. Peter’s been great at making sure he eats.”

Peter looked beside himself. “I’ve probably lost a stone or two with all the running up and down from the kitchens,” He told them cheerily.

“But now I think it’s time we properly intervene. Tell him to snap out of it, and _pronto_ ,” James clicked his fingers for affect.

Remus sighed, “James, come on. You know Sirius. He needs time, you can’t just tell him to snap out of it. He won’t like that one bit.”

“Yeah, well, someone needs to talk to him properly.”

Remus hummed noncommittally as he reached for a discarded copy of the Daily Prophet.

James glanced at Peter, as if for assurance, and pressed on, “And, erm, me and Peter, we think you should do it,” Remus looked up at him, eyebrows raised. James exhaled and tilted his head. “Come on, Remus, you know you’re good with people. You listen to them and let them speak.”

Remus spluttered. He had never thought of himself to be a good listener. Most of the time he just preferred other people speaking as it meant he didn’t have to talk himself. “I’m not—”

“Think about all the times you’ve listened to me bang on about Quidditch!” James exclaimed.

“Or me moaning about my sisters,” Peter added.

“Even Evans likes you. People just seem to trust you,” James said earnestly. “You’re what Sirius needs.”

“Plus, you were there when he had the argument with Regulus. You know more than we do,” Said Peter.

Remus sighed, “Why is it always me?”

James grinned, “Dunno. Just how it is.”

Remus put the paper back where he found it and breathed out heavily. “Is he down by the lake?”

“Probably,” Peter said.

“Thanks Remus. I would go but I’d probably do more damage than good,” James smiled at his friend, but his eyes were melancholy.

“It’s nice to know you’ve got so much faith in me,” Remus said as he tied his shoelaces. “But chances are he’ll just deck me if I try to say anything.”

“Unlikely,” James smirked. “But if he does, just punch him one back.”

Remus laughed, “Will do. See you later.”

Remus took his time as he strolled through the castle and out onto the grounds, spotting Sirius in the far distance on the bank of the lake. Sirius turned as he heard Remus approaching, fixing him with an unreadable expression.

“Alright?” Remus asked as he got nearer. Sirius looked at him for a moment more, furrowing his eyebrows, then turned quickly back to the lake.

“Yeah, you?” He asked gruffly. The cool breeze danced through his hair, ruffling it in a way that Remus knew annoyed him.

“I’m fine. Mind if I join you?” Remus tentatively asked, lingering by the large rock he usually sat on. Sirius shrugged, so Remus sat himself down, taking a book out of his bag.

“Did James tell you to come?” Sirius was still facing away from him, staring out at the inky black depths of the lake. The water lapped gently at his shoes.

Remus smiled to himself. Nothing got past Sirius. “Yeah. But don’t worry, I’m not here to lecture or interrogate you. I only came so he’d get off my back. We don’t have to speak if you don’t want to.”

“Ah,” Sirius said softly.

Remus flipped his book open to his bookmark, and traced a finger down the page, trying to remember where he got to. He wasn’t sure how long he read his book for, or how many pages he had turned before Sirius spoke again.

“Why is it always you?”

Remus froze. If he was being honest, he had been asking himself the same question for a while now. He put his book down, and leant his chin on his fist. “I’m not sure. Something about me being a good listener.”

“Sounds about right,” Sirius sighed deeply. “I don’t know why we keep ending up in situations like this.”

“Me neither,” Remus replied truthfully. He squinted at the glowing sun ahead of them, just on the brink of setting. The sun seemed to capture whatever Sirius wanted to say, and he stood rigid, staring at the orb in the sky. Remus crossed and uncrossed his legs, causing the pebbles under his feet to crunch.

“You know last summer was difficult for me,” Sirius eventually said. He put his hands on his hips and tilted his head up towards the sky. “I started standing up for myself more. Calling them out when they said anything about blood purity and all that rubbish,” He breathed out slowly. “My parents can get quite creative with their punishments. Hitting a child or sending them to their room without dinner is, in their opinion, a Muggle way of dealing with insolence. They’d never lay a finger on me, but they have other ways…” Sirius trailed off, as if unable to continue the sentence. He cleared his throat, “Anyway. It’s nothing I can’t handle. Most of the time they just lock me in the cellar. Reg sometimes hides candles down there for me, so it’s not that bad.”

Sirius seemed determined to downplay how his parents treated him, and Remus stared at his back, furious that anyone could treat their child like that.

“I told you my plan with Reg, about getting him in Gryffindor so I could protect him. I can handle this stuff happening to me but I can’t let it happen to him,” Sirius finally turned to face him, and Remus was shocked to see his eyes were shining with tears. “Everything’s just gone so wrong. I feel like I’m losing him.”

“Sirius, you’re not going to lose him,” Remus found himself saying. “He’s lucky to have a brother like you. He knows you’re always going to be there for him.”

“Well, I might not be,” Sirius said bitterly.

Remus frowned at him, “What are you on about?”

“Oh,” Sirius smiled brilliantly, but something behind his eyes looked hollow. “Darling Mother and Father have been threatening to send me to Durmstrang if I keep up my — now, what was the word they used — ah, _flagrant_ behaviour. Bit of a tame punishment, considering what they’re capable of. I ‘spose it wouldn’t be too bad, being in a different country to them. Trouble is, I’m just not very good with the cold.”

Remus was speechless. He had read about the European wizarding school, and felt uneasy at their refusal to admit Muggle-born students. “But—”

“Yeah,” Sirius said. “Pretty dire situation, but what can you do?” He caught Remus’s eye and laughed, in spite of it all. Sometimes, Remus thought, all you can do is laugh.

“Bloody hell, Sirius,” Remus said, smiling bleakly. “You can’t go to Durmstrang.”

“You try telling my parents that,” He scoffed. “Merlin, that’s something I’d pay to see.”

Remus sighed, and looked up at him, “Are you going to be okay?”

“Oh yeah,” Sirius said brightly, and if Remus didn’t know him as he did, he would almost be convinced. “I’ll be alright. Always will be.”

The last of the sun was just visible, glittering on the peaks of the gentle waves in the lake. In the golden glow of the setting sun, Sirius’s hair looked lighter; a rich shade of umber.

“You’re a pretty shit liar,” Remus said, smiling.

Sirius tilted his head, a bemused expression on his face, “Most people can’t tell when I’m lying.”

Remus shrugged, grinning, “Nothing gets past me.”

Sirius laughed, “That’s true. That’s very true.”

Silence hung in the air for a moment, and Sirius shivered in the dusk. His eyes were the same colour as the sky.

“Wanna go back inside?” Remus suggested, slipping his book back into his bag.

Sirius paused for a moment then nodded, and the two boys made their way back to the castle, both feeling as though a weight had been lifted from their shoulders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song info:  
> The chapter title is I Can't Change It - Frankie Miller
> 
> Deck - punch someone


	11. Devil's Answer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A revelation is made.

_People are looking but they don't know what to do_

_It's the time of the season for the people like you_

_Come back tomorrow, show the scars on your face_

_It's a clue to the answer we all chase_

They were hiding something from him.

Remus’s friends weren’t known for their subtleness, so their pathetic attempts at keeping it quiet were completely lost. It was constant; the whispering behind his back and hushed tones at night. Whenever he’d walk into a room they would quickly fall silent, lean away from each other and pretend to be doing something different. He came down to breakfast slightly later one morning to find James holding _Seeker Weekly_ upside down and Peter closely examining his cuticles. Sirius merely smiled at him, watching him carefully as he walked down the length of the Great Hall.

It was driving him mad. Being left out was bad enough, but the fact they were doing such a poor job at hiding their secret was even worse. He grew more and more distant; snapping when any of them spoke to him, avoiding them in hallways, spending more and more time in the library.

His walls that had been slowly brought down over the past year and a half were slowly being rebuilt, and by the time James’s birthday rolled around at the end of March he was hardly speaking to any of his dorm mates. He couldn’t work out if he wanted them to let him in on the secret, or just stop the irritating whispering and let them finally return to their tight-knit friendship.

He would seek noise as a way to distract himself, to finally let his mind rest and stop his incessant merry-go-round of thoughts. He’d go anywhere; an alcove behind a tapestry in a busy corridor, the sunny bank of grass near Hagrid’s hut, even the Quidditch stands while Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw were practising. Anywhere with noise and distraction was welcome.

Sometimes Remus felt as though he was trapped in a bubble. Watching the world through the iridescent orb cocooning him; close enough to people to touch, yet still separated. Often it would seem as though the whole world was sharing something he wasn’t aware of, while he was permanently relegated to the sidelines, plodding along at his own slow pace. Although isolation shares the same sting as loneliness, there’s something much darker about the former.

“Remus? Are you alright?”

Remus snapped his head up, his bleary eyes searching for the speaker. Lily slid into the seat opposite him, pursing her lips. He should’ve known there was no solace from her in the library.

He sighed and placed his head back on his crossed arms, shutting his eyes once more. “What do you want?”

Lily let out a long sigh, “Come on Remus, I’m not blind.”

“Glad to hear it. Is your hearing alright too?”

Remus could hear her shifting in her seat, huffing slightly as she made herself comfortable. “Look, are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

He paused, deciding his words carefully, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re so… withdrawn. It’s like you’re in your own little world, and I can’t tell if you’re happy there or not.”

“I’ve always been withdrawn.”

“No, you haven’t,” Lily sighed, and Remus felt her fingers graze the hem of his robe. “You’ve regressed back into your shell these past couple of weeks. Is it the boys? Have they done something?”

“No. They haven’t done anything.”

“Remus—”

He sat up quickly, pushing his hair out of his eyes. Lily’s eyes seemed huge, full of sorrow and sympathy. “You’re making this into something it isn’t. I’ve just been a bit tired.”

Lily hummed doubtfully, “Something’s happened between you boys. You’d have to be an idiot not to spot it.”

“Then maybe I’m an idiot,” Remus began gathering the books and bits of parchment he had abandoned earlier. “Because all I’m noticing is the fact that I’m spending a bit more time by myself. But _you’re_ here now, so what’s the problem?”

He fixed her with a hard stare yet she remained strong, sat perfectly upright in her chair. “You don’t have to be rude about it,” Her eyes narrowed slightly, glimmering in the sunlight. “I’ve come to you as a friend, to see if you’re alright.”

Remus stooped to grab his bag, stashing his things inside. “I don’t need you to mother me. I’ve just been keeping my distance a bit because they’ve been getting on my nerves. As a matter of fact, I seem to recall you urging me to do just that not so long ago.”

Lily shook her head, now looking thoroughly pissed off, “Oh, for goodness sake Remus, you don’t have to be so dramatic. I just asked _why_ you were friends with them, not beg you to completely isolate yourself. But if you’d rather sit here alone, I won’t ruin your solitude.”

She got up suddenly, her chair scraping loudly against the floor. Regret was already flooding through Remus.

“Wait.”

Lily stopped, her eyes soft. Remus was suddenly struck with how incredibly tired he was.

“You can sit with me, if you like.”

She stood still for a moment, then nodded and sank back into her chair, propping her chin up on her hand. “Come on, Remus. Speak to me,” Her voice was soft.

He exhaled. “They’ve been acting weird. Whispering, leaving me out of their conversations — that sort of thing,” He leant back in his chair and folded his arms, defensive. “I don’t care though. It’s been nice, having a bit of peace and quiet.”

Lily looked incredulous, “There’s a lot I don’t know about you Remus, but I do know that you hate silence.”

Remus blinked, astounded, “How do you know that?”

She smiled and tapped the table with her forefinger. “This is our favourite table, right? It’s one of the best spots in the library for hearing noise. You get all the echoes here. You concentrate better when there’s outside distractions, don’t you?”

He hesitated, then nodded, “Didn’t realise it was so obvious.”

“It’s not,” She grinned as she tucked a tendril of hair behind her ear. “I’m just observant.”

“Too observant for your own good,” He replied drily.

She laughed and leaned forward. “Why don’t you just speak to them? Find out why they’ve been acting off with you.”

“If only it was that easy,” He laughed cynically. “They’ve tried to be subtle about it, but they’re the most oblivious people you’ve ever met. I wouldn’t be surprised if they hadn’t even noticed that I’m not talking to them.”

Lily hummed and tilted her head to the side, so her hair tumbled out again from behind her ear. “That’s true. Potter and Black don’t strike me as the types to be aware of what’s going on around them.”

Remus made a sound of agreement, and let his gaze shift towards the window. “Anyway, it isn’t as dire as you’re making it out to be. They’re probably just fed up of me.”

She snorted, “If anyone should be fed up it should be you!” Remus continued to stare blankly out of the window, and her tone softened. “Look, if they are being funny then shouldn’t you be the bigger person and confront them about it? Show them up.”

Remus clicked his tongue and eventually looked back at her. She was grinning, and he frowned slightly. “What are you smiling at? I haven’t said I’d do anything.”

“No, but you didn’t immediately shut me down and say you weren’t going to speak to them,” She pushed her chair back from the table, gently this time, and slowly got to her feet. “Thing with you, Remus, is that if you say you’re not going to do something, you stay true to your word. There’s no chance anyone will catch you doing something once you’ve sworn not to. But if you _don’t_ say you won’t do it… Well, then there’s a chance.”

Remus looked at her contemplatively as she paused by the table. Although only thirteen, Lily seemed to possess some sort of worldly knowledge, a weird kind of intuitiveness of people and their feelings. He shrugged, and picked up his bag. “We’ll see.”

She nodded contentedly at him, “I’m glad to have helped.”

“Thanks Lily.”

Her face broke out into a sunny smile. “Anytime.”

***

That was that. His pep talk with Lily had spurred him to confrontation, and onwards he marched towards Gryffindor Tower. He almost felt as though he was on a war path, striding with complete purpose down the corridors, batting first years out of his way left, right and centre.

He rehearsed what he was going to say in his head as he walked. He would probably kick the door to the dormitory open and storm in, all guns blazing. The other three would probably be in the middle of whispering about him, and practically shit themselves when they realise it’s Remus. He’d slam the door shut behind him, take a deep breath, and calmly ask what’s been so important that they had been leaving him out for weeks. They’d splutter for a reason of course, then each fall to their knees and beg him for forgiveness. Remus, the gracious being as he is, would grant them pardon, but only on the condition that they don’t mess him about again.

In reality, there was no way that Remus’s imagination could have prepared him for what really happened.

As he ascended the stairs to their dormitory he could hear the three of them bickering; James the loudest, with Sirius hissing angrily back. He paused for a moment outside the door, his ears prickling as their words became audible.

“—There’s obviously a reason he hasn’t told us,” Sirius sounded furious. “We should respect that and keep quiet.”

“I think it’s more respectful to be honest that we know,” Said James, somewhat calmer. “He’ll understand that.”

“Yeah, we really need to speak to him about it,” Peter interjected.

“I’m really not happy about this, James, really not bloody happy at all.”

Remus couldn’t stand it any more, and let the door slowly creak open. James was stood in the centre of the room, his face turning deathly pale as he realised who was stood on the threshold. Peter was sat cross-legged on his bed, his mouth hanging open, eyes darting between James and Remus. Sirius was on his windowsill, and gave Remus a peculiarly remorseful look. Remus looked at each of his friends, waiting for one of them to speak. There was silence.

“Is anyone going to tell me what’s going on?” He snapped, using the last of his courage.

His friends remained frozen for a moment more, then Sirius suddenly leapt from the windowsill, a grim look of determination on his face.

“Nothing’s going on,” He assured him, sounding almost frantic. “Come on, do you want to go to the kitchens or something? Or the library? Or—”

“Stop it, Sirius. We’ve got to tell him,” James said wearily. “It’s over.”

Remus suddenly felt very sick. “What are you talking about?”

Sirius stepped in front of James, grabbing him by the shoulders. “Please don’t do this.”

“What the hell are you on about?” Anger and fear began bubbling inside Remus. “Stop acting as though I’m not here.”

“Remus,” James spoke softly, stepping around Sirius and coming closer. “We’ve figured something out.”

Clouds of black began creeping into his peripheral vision. He couldn’t feel his feet on the ground.

“What?” His words felt like sandpaper in his throat.

James hesitated, grinding his teeth together. Then, finally— “We know you’re a werewolf.”

Remus felt as though his stomach had been dropped from the top of the Astronomy Tower.

This wasn’t happening. This _couldn’t_ be happening.

He turned and started running; he didn’t know where he was going, he just had to get as far away from the Marauders as possible. It felt as though the only sound he could hear was his beating heart, thudding painfully against his chest as he tripped down the moving staircase and past the Great Hall. He burst out of the castle, breathing heavily in the crisp air, and stumbled down to the Black Lake, barely even seeing where he was going. His vision was completely blurred now, and he wondered faintly if he was going blind.

He sank to his knees on the bank of the lake, not caring that the sharp rocks were poking him, or that the damp was slowly seeping through his robes. He pressed the palms of his hands to his eyes, but they were dry. His body didn’t seem capable of producing tears. He exhaled shakily and let his eyes remain shut for a while, hoping his body would calm down. His breath was ragged and he could feel his hands shaking. His heart was still thumping erratically, and he couldn’t shake the nauseous feeling that he had to throw up. Worst of all was his brain. He knew that it was over.

His friends had finally figured out his deepest, darkest secret. He would have to leave Hogwarts and potentially be on the run from the Ministry. There was no _way_ he was going to sign the Werewolf Register, so that would be that — he’d become even more of a societal outcast. It was amazing how quickly your life could fall apart.

He wasn’t sure how long he sat and listened to the ebb and flow of the lake, letting his mind turn itself inside out as he frantically tried to problem solve.

“Remus? Can I speak to you?”

It was Sirius. Remus didn’t dare turn his head towards him, instead keeping his eyes squeezed shut.

He inhaled shakily, but concentrated on letting the breath out steadily. “You don’t have to worry about me leaving. I’ll come and pack my stuff now.”

“Leave?” Sirius scoffed, the pebbles crunching beneath his feet as he moved closer. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“I’m not in the mood to play games,” Remus kept his voice level. “I’ll be gone by nightfall. Just let me leave in peace, please. I won’t hurt you.”

“Don’t be so ridiculous—”

“ _How_ am I being ridiculous?” Remus spun around, glaring at him. “I can’t stay now you know what I am. It’s not safe! I’ll leave Hogwarts immediately.”

Sirius didn’t look angry or scared, merely calm and thoughtful. He was crouched down, a couple of feet away from Remus. “Why do you think you need to leave?”

Remus couldn’t help but let out a hollow laugh, “ _Why do I think I need to_ — for fuck’s sake Sirius, I’m a werewolf! You all know I’m a werewolf. I’m a dangerous dark creature, and I shouldn’t be allowed to stay here. It was a stupid idea to come to Hogwarts.”

Sirius’s mouth quirked into a smile. Remus couldn’t see what was so funny. “A dangerous dark creature? Remus, you couldn’t be further from that.”

“Haven’t you read the textbooks? Do you even know what they say about werewolves?”

“Of course I know what they say,” Sirius’s eyes were piercing, making the hair on the back of Remus’s neck prickle. “But that doesn’t mean it’s true. You’re still Remus. You’re still our mate.”

“Still a werewolf,” Remus said bitterly.

“So what?” Sirius moved a little closer. “You’ve got an awful condition that wrecks you every month, but that doesn’t mean you’re any less of a person. In fact, I think it makes you an even stronger person than the rest of us. You suffer, yet you don’t moan about it. Merlin knows how many transformations you’ve gone through, yet you’ve come out the other side every time with your head held high. We’re not scared of you, if anything, we admire you.”

Remus opened his mouth but nothing came out. All he could do was stare at Sirius in disbelief, hearing these words that seemed foreign to his ears. He wasn’t sure if he could allow himself to believe what Sirius was saying, but there was something so painstakingly honest in his silver eyes that Remus couldn’t help but feel himself thawing.

“Do you… do you really mean that?” Remus wasn’t sure where to look. “Do you seriously still want to be friends with me?”

Sirius grinned. “Of course! Why wouldn’t we? And what’s more, we don’t want you to leave either. We’d be lost without you.”

“I can’t believe you’re actually okay with this,” Remus lowered himself into a seating position, feeling as though all energy had been sucked from his body. “I’ve dreaded this for months, worried myself sick over the thought of you realising.”

Sirius cocked his head to the side, “We know exactly the sort of person you are, and finding out that you’re a werewolf hasn’t changed our opinion of you at all.”

Remus sat on the rocks for a while, absorbing the information in disbelief. Sirius seemed content with the silence, lazily using his wand to send puffs of deep purple smoke into the air.

“How long have you known?”

Sirius looked at Remus quickly, fixing him with an unreadable expression. He tucked his wand into the inside pocket of his robes and scratched his chin, his eyes sliding towards the lake. “Not long.”

Remus could feel his stomach bubbling in protest. He shifted so he was in Sirius’s eye line, forcing him to look at him. “How long have you known?” He repeated, firmer.

Sirius pressed his lips together warily, looking incredibly reluctant to speak, “I figured it out first, but didn’t tell the others. James only realised a couple of weeks ago, and told Peter and I. They don’t know that I knew beforehand.”

“How long?” Remus spoke through gritted teeth.

Sirius sighed, pressing his hands to his eyes, “I don’t want you to get mad at me—”

“Just tell me!” Remus barked, his patience wearing thin.

“I figured it out last December. When you stayed at Hogwarts over Christmas it all suddenly fell into place. Clicked together, like a puzzle in my mind. I always knew there was something different about you, and that’s when I finally realised what it was.”

It felt as though all the blood was draining from Remus. “You’ve known for over a year?”

“Yeah, I’ve known for ages,” Sirius was strangely solemn. “But in all that time it hasn’t changed anything. It never will. I didn’t want to tell you I knew because you obviously didn’t want us to know. There were plenty of chances you could have told us, but you didn’t—” Remus opened his mouth to protest, but Sirius shook his head firmly. “—and it’s fine, honest to Merlin, it’s fine that you didn’t tell us. It was just James, the stupid git, he didn’t see it the same way. Thought it was more dishonest of us to hide it from you. I wanted to wait and see if you would tell us in your own time, but he disagreed.”

Remus wasn’t sure what to say. He couldn’t count the amount of nights he lay awake, paralysed with terror at the thought of his friends finding out about his monthly problem. He was determined to take his secret to the grave, believing nobody else need ever know that he was a werewolf. His worst fears had come true and yet, peculiarly, spectacularly, it wasn’t nearly as bad as he thought it would be.

“We want you to know that we’re here for you; to support you, to help you out. You don’t have to go through this alone anymore,” Sirius looked at Remus expectantly, and he realised that it was probably time for him to speak.

Remus sighed, “Alright.”

Sirius’s eyebrows raised slightly in question.

“Alright,” He repeated. “That’s that, then. You know, and now I know that you know. Not much else to say, is there?”

Sirius looked slightly stunned, “No, I don’t suppose there is.”

Remus chewed on his lip, still feeling as though he needed time to process this all alone. “I’ll meet you back at the castle. I want to sit here for a bit.”

“You sure you’re okay?” Sirius asked, looking mildly concerned.

“Just want a moment, that’s all,” Remus gave Sirius a pointed look. “That allowed?”

“No, yeah, of course,” Sirius clambered to his feet and elegantly dusted off his robes. “I’ll see you in a bit then, yeah?”

“Yeah, in a bit mate,” Remus responded, nodding curtly.

He watched as Sirius sauntered off, languidly zig-zagging his way towards the castle. He rarely walked with any haste, instead choosing to practically swagger as he moved towards his destination, as leisurely as he pleased.

Remus turned back to the lake and let out a long breath. This was not how he thought his day would go at all. It would be a while before he would feel as though he could face his other friends, so there he sat, staring without seeing at the sparkling lake, feeling simultaneously as though a weight had lifted from his shoulders but a void had opened within him.

***

When Remus eventually made his way back to the dorm James immediately strode towards him, seized him roughly by the shoulders and pulled him into a tight hug. Over James’s shoulder Peter smiled brightly and genuinely, nodding in his odd little way that Remus knew meant support and reassurance. Sirius was laid on his bed, and didn’t even glance up from his book when Remus slouched in.

“I’m so sorry it had to come out that way,” James smiled ruefully, jabbing his glasses up his nose with his knuckle. “I was so fed up of the secrecy, I just had to tell you that we knew.”

“That’s alright,” Remus shrugged, not wanting to have another discussion about it. “It was going to have to come out at some point.”

“Yeah, exactly,” James scratched his head, clearly struggling to find a way to bring something up. “Look, Sirius said he spoke to you—”

“Yeah…” Remus frowned, turning quickly to his record collection so he didn’t have to look at James. He was feeling somewhat unsettled now his friends all knew he was a werewolf. Almost as if they had walked in on him naked — they now knew almost everything there was to know about him, and there was nowhere to hide, nothing to conceal. Everything laid bare for them to pick at and dissect, casting away any parts they didn’t like…

“Great, well, you know we’re here for you?” James paused, as if waiting for Remus to confirm that yes, he was aware that his friends had pledged their full support to him, but he stayed silent. He cleared his throat, “Yeah, we don’t care that you’re a werewolf, and, well, if anything we think it’s pretty cool! Okay, not cool, we know it’s supposed to be really painful, but, yeah, we’re going to do everything we can to make it better for you. I’ve done some reading, and I reckon there’s a few things we could possibly try. You don’t have to go through this alone. Not anymore. You’ve got the Marauders on your side now!”

Remus couldn’t help but smile slightly as James babbled on. He was never a smooth talker; any thought that popped into his head would subsequently roll off his tongue without much thought or hesitation. He was sincere though, you could always count on James to speak directly from the heart, even if most of the time it didn’t make a lot of sense.

“That means a lot,” Remus turned to face his friend. “Honestly. I never thought anyone would accept me the way I am.”

“But you seem completely normal!” Peter burst out. James gave him a sharp look and he flushed deeply, swallowing harshly. “Ah, I didn’t mean it like that, just that we’d be the mental ones if we got all weird when we found out. I mean,” He chuckled to himself. “Why in the name of Merlin _wouldn’t_ we accept you?”

“Something about transforming into a deadly, uncontrollable beast that yearns to bite and attack other humans every month?” Remus said drily.

“Yeah, well, that’s not your fault,” James insisted. “You can’t help it! It’s just the nature of a werewolf to want to bite others.”

Remus smirked, “Cheers James, wasn’t too sure what it meant to be a werewolf, but I’m glad you’ve cleared that up for me.”

James stared at him, perplexed, for a moment, then his trademark lopsided grin broke on his face. “We’re alright though, aren’t we?”

Remus rolled his eyes but grinned back, his heart feeling as though it could burst. “Of course.”

***

On the morning of Remus’s next transformation, his three friends were awake and fully dressed before he even had a chance to go to the bathroom. James was beaming and Peter was propped up on his bedpost, suspiciously looking like he was about to have a doze. Sirius was rubbing sleep out of his eyes but smiled brightly, as if there was nowhere he’d rather be.

“How come you’re all up?” Remus yawned, rubbing his temple. He had the beginnings of a splitting headache and desperately needed a glass of water. “Am I late?”

“Nah, we’re ready to give you a hand!” James practically chirped, full of his seemingly endless energy.

Remus blinked, utterly baffled, his eyes still heavy from his deep sleep. “Why would I need a hand?”

“It’s, you know,” Peter lifted his eyebrows helplessly. “Oh, you must know what it is tonight.”

“Full moon,” Sirius said plainly. “We’re going to be at your beck and call today.”

Remus laughed, “You’re joking.”

“Nope! We’re going to do everything we can to make your day as easy as possible,” James said proudly. “You won’t have to worry about a thing.”

Remus looked at each of his friends, feeling half exasperated, half amused. He shook his head and made his way towards the bathroom, resolving to sort it out once he’d had a cup of tea.

In the end, there was nothing Remus could do or say to deter his friends from fussing over him that day. Peter loaded up his plate with food at each meal, giving him what he saw as the ‘most perfectly fried egg’ or the ‘crispiest jacket potato’ or the ‘juiciest looking sausages’. James made a massive deal about carrying Remus’s heavy bag between lessons, acting as though he was carrying Excalibur through the corridors of Hogwarts. Sirius was in attack mode all day, pushing anyone who got too close and hexing any Slytherin’s who looked at Remus ‘in the wrong way’.

All of this embarrassed Remus beyond words, but he couldn’t deny how touched he was that his friends were going through so much effort to try and make him feel less alone. When it was time for him to go to the Hospital Wing, they offered to escort him all the way to the Whomping Willow but he asked them not to. It was just a little too close for comfort, and Remus was the type to prefer to go through his struggles alone.

“Besides, Madam Pomfrey always comes with me,” He explained, lacing up his shoes. “Probably to make sure I’m safely off the school grounds.”

“We can use the Invisibility Cloak,” Sirius suggested. “She’ll never know we’re there.”

“It’s fine, honestly. Thanks for the offer, but I’ll be fine,” Remus stood quickly and staggered, his body feeling drained of energy. James steadied him by the shoulder, and peered worriedly into his eyes.

“How about we walk you to the Hospital Wing?” James looked desperate to do something, his hand squeezing Remus’s shoulder protectively.

“Yeah, just to make sure you get there without collapsing or anything,” Peter said.

Remus sighed, lacking the energy to argue about it, “Alright, but you have to come straight back here after. No sneaking around trying to find me. I’ll be back at some point tomorrow.”

His friends exchanged a glance and James nodded, letting his hand fall to his side. “Okay, we’ll do that. You ready to go? Do you need anything?”

“A cure to lycanthropy would be nice.”

“I don’t know how you still manage to be sarky even though you’re about to transform into a werewolf,” Sirius said, the ghost of a smile flickering on his face.

“Come on, I need to go. It’s nearly sundown,” Remus looked wearily towards the window, where the last few golden rays of sun were glimmering through the glass. It was going to be a long night.

When he eventually woke in the Hospital Wing the next morning he was greeted with the familiar crashing waves of pain. He vaguely remembered coming to in the Shrieking Shack, and Madam Pomfrey’s sympathetic tuts as she patched him up.

He gave each of his limbs an experimental wiggle in order to assess the damage. It seemed he’d done his shoulder in _again_ , but it was so tightly wrapped in gauze and lathered in potion that he was sure he’d be fine. There were the usual scratches and bruises and his head felt like it was on fire, but all in all it was a reasonably normal transformation. Well, as normal as a werewolf transformation can be. He gingerly leant over to the bedside cabinet and drank some of the fresh water left for him.

Leaning back on the pillow he sighed, wondering what the time was. The sun was still up, but that didn’t tell him very much. Now that summer was creeping closer and closer the days drew out longer, giving them more time to spend in the warming sun.

“Good afternoon, Remus, how are you feeling?” He managed a small smile as Madam Pomfrey briskly walked over, holding a steaming tray of food. “You must be hungry.”

“When am I ever not starving after a transformation?” He asked, slowly pulling himself into a seated position.

She placed the tray on his lap and helped plump his pillows so he could sit more comfortably. “You didn’t seem as scratched this time. Of course, you were quite worn out, but it wasn’t the worst I’ve seen you,” She stepped back and smiled kindly. “Is there any reason for that, do you think?”

“Er—” Remus stalled and chewed his lip. He had been told to keep his secret to himself, and was unsure how the Matron would react if she knew that his friends had found out, even if he didn’t necessarily tell them outright. “I dunno. My head’s pretty sore, feels like it’s too bright.”

“I see,” She said, flicking her wand and causing the curtains on the windows nearest to him to swing shut. “Oh, incidentally, your friends are outside again. Arrived first thing this morning, and have come back at every opportunity they’ve had.”

“They’re probably just stuck on their Defence homework,” Remus said, picking up the knife and fork so he didn’t have to look at her. “Had a difficult essay set.”

Madam Pomfrey gave him a brief, unreadable look, then summoned a potion and placed it on the tray. “Drink this once you’ve eaten. It should clear your head.”

“Thanks,” Said Remus, keeping his eyes glued to the plate of food in front of him. It wasn’t nice, feeling as though he was keeping something from her, but he felt as though he had no other choice.

Later, after several potions and a long nap, Remus finally felt ready to return to the dormitory. He put his robes on, said goodbye to the Matron and trudged from the room, only to find the rest of the Marauders sat outside, playing a surprisingly quiet (for them) game of Gobstones.

“Remus! There you are!” James said jovially, jumping to his feet and rushing to hug him. “How are you feeling?”

“Madam Pomfrey refused to let us in, so we’ve been sat out here since dinner,” Said Peter proudly, packing up the Gobstones.

“You alright?” Sirius asked, leaning against the wall.

“You didn’t have to wait here for me,” Remus exclaimed, overwhelmed. “I’m capable of walking around the castle by myself.”

“Well yeah, we know that, but we’re just here to see how you are,” James insisted. “We missed you today.”

Remus didn’t have the energy to argue. “Okay then, thanks for coming.”

“Come on, let’s get you back to the dorm,” James said, taking Remus’s elbow.

Remus looked at him incredulously, his eyebrows raised, “Bloody hell James, I’m not senile. I am capable of walking.”

“Yeah, our Moony’s stronger than he looks,” Sirius agreed, pushing himself off the wall.

“Moony?” Remus repeated blankly.

“Yep,” Sirius said casually, as he began to walk down the corridor.

“Who’s Moony?” Peter asked, scrambling to his feet and pocketing his Gobstones.

“Oh Merlin,” Sirius muttered, spinning on his heel to face them. “Remus is Moony! You know, like a full moon?”

Peter _ahhed_ in understanding, but Remus was not impressed.

“You are not bloody calling me Moony,” He snapped. “Over my dead body.”

Sirius grinned, “What do you think, James?”

“I think it’s delightfully fitting,” James winked at Remus. “A perfect nickname for a perfect gentleman.”

Remus felt as though he had to suppress a scream.

***

“D’ya know what, I think I might go for Muggle Studies.”

“Don’t be a prat Sirius, you can’t just pick a subject on the basis of it being the one that’ll piss your parents off the most.”

“Well, Potter, I’m not going to say it’s not a driving factor, but it’s not the only reason. As difficult as it may be for your tiny little brain to comprehend, I am actually interested in Muggle life. It seems so quaint, so whimsical, so—”

Remus snorted, “I wouldn’t romanticise Muggles if I were you. You don’t know the half of some of the things they’ve done.”

They were sat, or in Sirius’s case, sprawled, around the crackling fire in the common room. Peter had claimed the big squishy armchair, James and Remus were lounging up on the sofa, and Sirius was relegated to the floor. McGonagall had given all the second years sheets of parchment to fill out, detailing which subjects they wanted to pick up next year. Remus knew he didn’t want to do Muggle Studies (for obvious reasons) and Divination. The idea of finding out what fresh horrors the future had in store for him was the last thing he wanted, even if the magic was highly dubious.

Arithmancy, although another method for predicting the future, was more logical and legitimate in Remus’s eyes. Study of Ancient Runes also seemed fascinating, and Remus would be lying if he said he wasn’t interested in learning more about the wizarding world in Care of Magical Creatures. It was possible to take on three extra subjects, but students were warned of the extensive workload and crammed timetables. However, they were able to drop subjects if they weren’t able to handle the work. Remus pondered this all as he fiddled with his quill, interjecting now and then as James and Sirius squabbled.

“I’m definitely doing Care of Magical Creatures,” Peter announced confidently. “But I’m torn between Divination and Muggle Studies.”

“See! Even Peter’s considering Muggle Studies,” Sirius said victoriously, rolling onto his back and pumping his fist into the air. “Maybe we’ll even get to listen to some Muggle music in the lessons, that would be cool.”

Remus scoffed but didn’t say anything.

“Blimey, you’re almost convincing me to do Muggle Studies,” James said offhandedly, stretching out on the sofa and bumping his socked feet into Remus’s leg. “I think I might do one difficult one and one easy one. Give the old noggin a challenge.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” Sirius hummed, holding his paper above his head. “Is Muggle Studies and Arithmancy a bit of an odd mix?”

“You can do whatever you want,” Remus said, pulling nonchalantly at the barbs of his quill. “I don’t think McGonagall will have a go at you if your subjects look funny together.”

Sirius craned his neck to stick his tongue out, “Alright, smartarse. What are you picking?”

“I think I’m going to go for Arithmancy, Study of Ancient Runes and Care of Magical Creatures.”

“You’re going to do three?” Peter asked, horrified.

“Yeah, I’ll give it a go. If it gets too difficult I’ll drop one.”

“Well then, Moony, you’re a better man than the rest of us,” James said gravely, prodding him with his toe. Remus swatted at his feet. He still wasn't keen on the nickname but it unfortunately seemed to have stuck.

Sirius yawned loudly and dramatically stretched on the rug like a cat, causing the surrounding students to throw him confused glances. He shook his hair out of his eyes and propped himself up on his elbows, giving his friends a very familiar mischievous smile. “So, I’ve been thinking—”

“Got a prank idea?” Peter asked breathlessly, looking utterly thrilled.

Sirius grinned, “Might do. Just need a certain someone to work out the logistics first.”

Remus tilted his head to the side and raised his eyebrows skeptically.

“Hang on, don’t say anything more, let me just finish this first. Right. I’m going to pick Muggle Studies and…” James frowned at his parchment, trailing a finger down the neatly printed script. “Yeah, I’ll give Arithmancy a go. I can always drop it if it gets too dull.”

Sirius tossed his parchment to the floor and sat up, “I’ve picked the same.”

“I’ll do Muggle Studies with you two then, don’t want to be in Divination by myself,” Peter said as he scratched his choices onto the parchment.

“Right, now we’ve got that sorted I can tell you about my idea. Obviously we need to do an end of term blow-out, and this year—” Sirius abruptly stopped speaking as the portrait swung open and Lily and Sakiya clambered through the hole, deep in conversation.

“Alright, Evans?” James called, raking a hand through his messy hair. “Picked your extra subjects yet? I wonder if we’ll be in any of the same classes.”

Lily shot him an unimpressed look, “Study of Ancient Runes really doesn’t seem like it’ll be up your street, so I reckon it’ll be unlikely.”

James wasn’t deterred, “What about Arithmancy? I think you’re clever enough to do that one.”

Sirius rolled his eyes from his position on the floor and Remus looked down at his parchment, smirking to himself.

“Wow, thanks Potter, you really think so? Maybe I _will_ give it a try, now I know you’ve got so much faith in me,” Lily replied, dripping with sarcasm.

“Oh, really?” James’s glasses nearly toppled off his nose in surprise.

Lily merely shook her head exasperatedly, disappearing up the stairs to her dormitory. Sakiya stayed, lingering unsurely beside the sofa James and Remus were sat on.

Sirius looked up at her, annoyed, “What? Do you have to stand there?”

Sakiya glared at him and swept away, following Lily up the stairs.

“Bloody women,” James said, staring at the staircase. “Can’t live with them, can’t live without them.”

Sirius snorted, “Yeah, whatever. Do you want to hear my prank idea or not?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song info:  
> The chapter title is Devil’s Answer - Atomic Rooster
> 
> Thank you ever so much for the kudos and comments! They really help fuel me to write <3


	12. The Shape of Things to Come

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summer, 1973.

_There's a new sun_

_Rising up angry in the sky_

_There's a new voice_

_Crying 'we're not afraid to die’_

Lyall seemed different that summer Remus returned to the Peak District. Like when the last of the snow melts from the winter, and the warm breeze comes in for spring, Lyall was lighter than Remus had ever seen him.

“It just feels like I’m back where I belong,” he told Remus one sunny morning as he wrapped up some sandwiches to eat at work. “I grew up in Sheffield, and spent so many happy times in the Peaks. There’s just nothing like that feeling you get when you finally come back home.”

Remus merely leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. There wasn’t anywhere he felt he could call home. They had moved around too many times for him to form any attachment to a location, each memory fading like a footprint in the sand. Luckily he didn’t feel too bothered, begrudgingly aware that relocating would probably be a staple in his life as a werewolf.

Lyall didn’t seem to notice that Remus didn’t respond, and swung his knapsack onto his shoulder. “Are you working today?”

Remus blew some air out of his mouth so the curls on his forehead lifted. It was a hot summer. “Yeah, Mr Shaw wants me in at eight.”

“Oh aye?” Lyall nodded, “You’ll be good, won’t you Remus?”

Remus looked incredulous. “Be _good_?”

“Yes, you heard me. In a bit,” Lyall ducked out of the kitchen, humming as he made his way out of their wonky little cottage.

Remus stretched out for a moment before pulling himself out of his seat, pottering around the tiny kitchen as he made himself some breakfast. He had got himself a summer job at the local greengrocers, partly because he could do with a bit of money, but mostly because he desperately needed something to do. He had long ago completed his Hogwarts homework and physically couldn’t do any more extra reading if he tried. The local boys he befriended last summer were still knocking about in the village, but they themselves had jobs or errands that kept them busy for most of the day.

Mr and Mrs Shaw were the sole greengrocers of Eyam. They were happy to take Remus on as a Saturday boy, giving him odd jobs around the shop and paying him at the end of every shift. Remus wasn’t sure what he wanted to do with the money yet, but chances are it would probably be spent on the latest record he wanted.

He found he quite enjoyed his shifts at the greengrocer. The work was repetitive but methodical, and he found himself growing in confidence after helping customer after customer each week.

Mrs Shaw would always be hunched over the books when he got in, heartily accepting Remus’s offer of a cup of tea. Mr Shaw would be stood grumbling behind the cash register, pressing buttons and scratching his chin contemplatively. Machines were not his strong point, and most of the time Remus had to show him what to press and how to get the till to pop out.

That particular day was as ordinary as any other. Remus had donned his navy apron and was knelt on the floor restocking the potatoes, Mr Shaw was pricing some white onions and Mrs Shaw was at home with a bad cold. Remus was half listening to a news report about the European Economic Community on the crackly transistor radio when Mr Shaw suddenly gave a start.

“Friggin’ hell, that owl’s back again,” he said, scowling at the window. He grabbed a broom from behind the counter and held it out towards Remus. “Take this and shoo it away, will you? We don’t want the customers to think we’ve got vermin.”

Remus wiped his hands on his apron and stood up, taking the broom from Mr Shaw. The owl was perched on the display stands outside, lazily picking at the freshly harvested carrots. Remus half-heartedly shook the broom at the bird, who stopped what it was doing and gave him an almost unimpressed look. It was a beautiful creature, a huge European eagle owl, with silken feathers and a sharp beak. What caught Remus’s attention, however, was the roll of parchment that was attached to its leg. The owl looked him up and down, almost as if it was assessing him, and then elegantly held its leg out, indicating that he should take the letter.

Remus glanced through the window, but Mr Shaw had ducked his balding head, resuming his pricing. He turned back to the owl and carefully untied the parchment from its leg. The owl gave a loud, indignant hoot, as if it had been waiting a while, and instantly took off, soaring effortlessly in the direction of Lyall’s cottage. Remus unfurled the parchment a little to check that it was indeed for him, and there was his name, carefully inked in midnight blue on the front. It was an unmistakable, loopy, copperplate script. Remus shoved the parchment into the pocket of his apron and began sweeping the doorstep, anxious to read what Sirius Black had to say.

“Ta lad, let’s just hope it stays away this time,” Mr Shaw called from inside. “Stupid bird’s been plaguing me all week.”

Remus smiled politely, brushing the pile of dust into the street. It was a quiet afternoon, the only customers being a few harried looking mothers frantically buying ingredients for Saturday night’s dinner. The last two hours of his shift dragged by, every minute seemingly amplified and eternal.

Eventually the clock chimed five and Remus hung his apron up on the hook in the back room, eager to get home. There was jangling as Mr Shaw sorted through the money, and Remus loitered awkwardly by the counter, trying hard not to look impatient.

“Sorry Remus, I’m still a bit flummoxed by the decimalisation,” Mr Shaw told him as he rattled through the till. “Me mind’s still stuck on shillings and crowns and ten-bobs. I’m too much of an old codger to deal with it all.”

“That’s alright, you can just pay me next week if you’d prefer,” Remus told him, feeling as though the letter was burning a hole in his pocket.

“No, nonsense, can’t have you going without your wages,” Mr Shaw gave him a toothy smile and jabbed at the cash register. “Now, it’s twenty shillings to a pound of course, but if I want to give you three pounds that would be—”

“Honestly, Mr Shaw, I’d prefer it if you gave me twice my wages next week,” Remus said quickly, not wanting to have another conversation about how much better the old system was. “Makes it easier to save.”

Mr Shaw was getting very red-faced indeed, and peered at Remus over his horn-rimmed glasses. “Are you sure lad? Don’t want you going without.”

“Yeah, absolutely positive,” Remus shifted his weight onto the foot closest to the door. “Well, I suppose I’ll see you next week?”

“Fine, but don’t tell Mrs Shaw,” he smiled. “Tarra then.”

“Bye!”

Remus rushed out of the door and tore down the street, eager to get home and read the letter. He had kept correspondence with both James and Peter, but there was a complete radio silence from Sirius until now. He banged the front door open and tripped into his room, sitting down on his bed as he carefully unfurled the parchment.

_Dear Moony,_

_I hope you don’t mind me writing to you. I couldn’t find your address and all of the family’s owls go a bit funny whenever they’re sent to Muggle villages, so hopefully this will get to you alright._

_I hope you’re having a good summer. I’m bored stiff, there’s absolutely nothing to do. You’d be surprised how dull London can get when you’re barely allowed to go anywhere._

_Things are still a bit strained between Reg and I, but what am I supposed to do? Mum brings up he fact he was sorted in Slytherin almost daily, just to throw it in my face. I’m half tempted to put a snake in her bed as she seems to love them so much._

_Anyway, I’ve got a bit of a favour to ask. Could possibly get some Muggle books for me? Anything you can get your hands on; history, science, technology, music, you know the sort. My parents would go mental if my highest grade is in Muggle Studies, so I want to do as much research as I can before I start lessons in September._

_I was going to ask James but he’d probably just laugh at me because I’m actually doing some reading. I know it’s a bit embarrassing but I know you won’t judge me. Plus, you’ve probably got a better knowledge of what books to buy._

_If you do manage to find anything, would you mind asking your dad to transfigure the covers so they don’t look Muggle? I’ve banned the house-elf from my room but I’m almost positive he still comes in and snoops through my things while I’m out._

_Do you think you might be able to make it to Diagon Alley sometime in July? It’s the only place I can go without causing too much suspicion, and you can give me the books then. I’ll obviously pay you back then as well. Let me know if you can make it and I’ll owl James and Peter, see if they fancy coming and making a day of it._

_Very dull regards,_

_Sirius Bored-out-of-his-brains Black_

_P.S. I’ve instructed Adara (the owl) to wait for three days for your response. She hunts for herself and doesn’t bite so hopefully won’t be too much trouble._

Remus leant back on his bed, unable to stop himself from smiling. Sirius Black wanted to read. Sirius Black, the boy who refused to do his homework when it was set, or revise for exams. Sirius Black, who had a seemingly encyclopaedic knowledge of everything. Sirius Black had singled Remus out as his librarian, asking for a selection of books forbidden by his parents.

He looked over at his overflowing bookshelf and nodded to himself. There was no need to buy any books, he had everything Sirius could possibly want to know about Muggles right in front of him.

He had the third edition of _History of the World_ and _The Making of the English Working Class._ He knew he had _A Short History of Technology_ by T. K. Derry somewhere, along with his ancient copy of _Encyclopædia Britannica_. He had a few novels as well, and considered parting with some of his favourites, but he was unsure if Sirius would enjoy reading Regency and Victorian era Muggle fiction. Then again, Sirius seemed to revel in being utterly unpredictable.

There was something incredibly flattering about the fact that Sirius had entrusted Remus with this task. Of course, the decision was heavily based in logic, but there was an undeniable fact that you felt good about yourself when Sirius paid attention to you. Remus pulled himself to his feet and smiled to himself as he trailed a finger across his uneven row of books.

A rap at the door yanked Remus out of his thoughts, and he slowly made his way to open it, rolling down his sleeves and smoothening his shirt.

“Now then, Remus,” Freddie, one of the boys from the village, was stood grinning on the porch. “What you saying?”

Remus lifted his chin in greeting and leant against the doorframe. “Alright Freddie?”

“Yeah, canny complain,” Freddie shrugged. “Been helping my da on the farm all day but I reckon it’s time for some fun. Saturday night, and all that. You up for it?”

“Depends what you’ve got in mind,” Remus said. “I’m not in the mood for getting chased out of Mr Morris’s field again. You know I’m shit at running.”

“Oh, sod that old berk. Noah’s nicked some beer from his dad, we’re going to sit down by the river and drink it. You up for it?”

Remus nibbled the inside of his lip as he considered. “Is Noah bringing any of his mates from work?”

Noah, the oldest boy in the group, had begun working in one of the local mixed ore mines. He was mostly nonchalant about the work he did down below, but Remus was only too aware of the strikes from the year before, and couldn’t believe that Noah was happy doing what he was doing.

“What, from Ladywash? Nah, it’ll just be us five,” Freddie rubbed a hand through his red shorn hair. “So, is that a yes?”

“Alright, fine,” Remus rolled his eyes. “What time?”

***

It was how many of Remus’s mild summer evenings in the Peak District passed; lounging around a bonfire with a lukewarm can of beer, watching with a wry smile as the four other boys mucked around with a football.

As it turns out, alcohol was quite fun to drink. The fizzy, amber liquid went down easily, tickling the inside of Remus’s nostrils and making him feel warm and loose. Sometimes he would join in the conversation, but most of the time he would just lean back on his elbow and watch the sky. A clear night sky in the country was one of the most beautiful things Remus had ever seen. With no light pollution to blanket the view, each and every star and constellation seemed as though it was glinting down at Remus, winking and shining against the deep velvety black of the midnight sky.

It was nice to be able to get out of the house. Although things weren’t as tense with his father, Remus still enjoyed exercising his independence and staying away from home in the evenings. He had pulled together a good collection of books for Sirius and was strangely excited about meeting him in Diagon Alley.

Lyall was reluctant to give Remus money for the train fare to London, instead begrudgingly deciding to take Remus there by Side-Along Apparition. And so, with his tattered backpack bursting to the seams with books, Remus held on tight to his father’s arm as he span on the spot. He wasn’t sure if he would ever get used to Apparition, but as he slowly peeled his eyes open he completely forgot about the unpleasant feeling he just experienced.

The air in Diagon Alley felt electric. It was heavy with the scent of magic, widening Remus’s eyes and forcing itself down his throat. It was different to the experimental magic at Hogwarts — every corner of Diagon Alley felt alive, as though pulsating with some sort of intangible energy.

“I’ll meet you back in this spot at five,” Lyall told him. “Don’t be late.”

“I won’t be,” Remus replied, already peering down the street in a bid to find Sirius.

“Alright, well, enjoy yourself,” Lyall said. “And stay safe.”

“Yeah, will do.”

There was a loud _crack_ as Lyall Disapparated, leaving Remus alone in the thronging crowd. He was meeting Sirius at an ice-cream parlour, so he began strolling down the street, peering at each store front.

“Alright, stranger?”

Sirius was sat under a pastel striped umbrella, holding two ice creams. His hair was shorter again, curling delicately around his jaw, and he was wearing some black Aviator sunglasses. He stood out from everyone around him; all in black, lazily sprawled over the table. Sirius, as usual, looked as though he owned the place.

Remus grinned and walked over, dropping onto the bench opposite. “Been a while, hasn’t it?”

“It’s been a bloody long summer,” Sirius agreed. He held out an ice cream. “Got this for you. Honeydukes chocolate flavoured, charmed to not drip. Florean’s a genius, honestly.”

“Oh, thanks,” Remus took the ice cream, feeling a little awkward. “How much was it? I’ll pay you back.”

Sirius immediately pulled a face. “Don’t be stupid. Besides, I owe you for the books,” he suddenly looked concerned, “You _do_ have the books, don’t you?”

Remus lifted his backpack, “I didn’t bring this just for a laugh.”

“Okay,” Sirius licked at his pink ice cream, contented. “Good to hear. What have you got for me?”

Remus handed his ice cream back to Sirius as he pulled each book out of his bag, explaining what it was about and why he chose it. Sirius looked as though all his birthdays and Christmases had come at once, grinning in delight at each book.

“I can’t believe my dad actually transfigured the covers,” Remus said after he got his ice cream back. “He’s been in a way better mood since moving to the Peaks. He’s still a bit funny about using magic normally, but seemed alright with doing the covers for you.”

Sirius looked genuinely grateful. “Tell him thanks for me, will you?”

Remus nodded and licked at his ice cream. “Had an alright summer?”

Sirius’s mouth twitched and Remus instantly regretted his question. He couldn’t see his eyes, but knew he had overstepped the line.

“There’s nothing I can’t handle,” Sirius cryptically said. “Anyway, I don’t want to talk about that. I’m free from my family today.”

“Yeah, of course, sorry, I understand,” Remus fumbled over his words. “What do you fancy doing now?”

“There’s a record shop just off Charing Cross Road,” Sirius pushed his sunglasses onto his head, pulling his wavy hair out of his face. Remus couldn’t help but notice how tired he looked, even though he was smiling. “Thought we could maybe go and listen to some of the new releases. What do you think?”

“It’s not the worst idea I’ve ever heard,” Remus said.

Sirius rolled his eyes. “Come on then, we’ve got about an hour to kill before James and Peter get here.”

So off they went, venturing onto the hot, sticky streets of Muggle London, navigating their way through crowds of chattering tourists until they found themselves in the cool dimness of the record shop. They separated for a time being, both rooting through colourful LPs and occasionally pulling one out to show the other.

Remus was lost in thought, peering at the back of a Slade vinyl, until Sirius cleared his throat.

“This one looks interesting,” he said, brandishing a black album with a triangle in the centre.

“Oh, Pink Floyd,” Remus nodded and walked towards him. “I’ve heard of that record actually. Supposed to be quite good.”

“It’s called _Dark Side of the Moon_ ,” Sirius said, an unreadable expression on his face.

Remus didn’t react, and indicated the listening booth with his head, “Shall we go and test it out?”

Sirius looked baffled, “What do you mean?”

Remus smiled and steered Sirius towards the listening booth at the back of the shop. It wasn’t too much of a squeeze inside, and Remus easily pulled the glass door shut as Sirius leant back against the wall with a raised eyebrow.

“Any reason why we’re in here?” Sirius asked idly. “Bit old for hide and seek, aren’t we?”

Remus rolled his eyes and took the record from Sirius, placing it on the record player that was sat on a shelf on the back wall.

“It’s a listening booth,” he explained as he carefully put the needle on the vinyl. “Gives you a chance to sample the goods before buying.”

Sirius looked impressed, “We can just stay in here and listen to the whole record, no questions asked?”

“Yep,” Remus prodded at the cushioned wall. “It’s sound-proofed so won’t annoy anyone…”

He trailed off as a heartbeat began playing from the record. Slowly, other sound affects added to the mix, and he looked at Sirius in alarm. It was strangely unsettling to listen to, and he reached towards the tone arm, ready to stop it playing.

And then _Breathe_ began.

Forty minutes later Remus and Sirius were blinking at each other in a daze, feeling as though they had somehow transcended and had experienced something etherial.

“Fuck,” said Remus, ungainly slumped against the scratchy wall. “That was insane.”

Sirius looked as though he had just discovered the lost city of Atlantis. “That’s not even music,” he told Remus. “That was something completely different. Merlin, I can't even put into words what that was like.”

Remus put the record back in its sleeve and pushed the door open, eager to get out of the stuffy booth.

“I’m buying it,” Sirius announced. “I need to own it.”

“Have you even got any Muggle money?” Remus asked, knowing that there was no way he could afford the glossy LP.

“Yeah, exchanged it at Gringotts before you arrived,” Sirius plunged a hand into his pocket and showed him a bundle of notes. “Pretty much the only thing I know about Muggle currency is how much a record costs.”

“Well that’s good, ‘cos I don’t have a penny to my name,” Remus said drily, moving to put _Sladest_ back in its spot. He hadn’t realised that he had held it throughout their entire time in the listening booth.

“Hang on, is that one any good?” Sirius suddenly asked, pointing at the LP.

“I’ve heard _Cum On Feel the Noize_ a few times on the radio, but that’s all,” Remus shrugged. “Not sure if I fancy standing in that booth for another half hour to see if it’s worth it.”

“Alright,” Sirius held out his hand. “I’ll get it.”

Remus felt his stomach flip and tried not to scowl. Sirius was a nightmare with money, always insisting to buy things as soon as anyone expressed an interest in them. It was incredibly generous of him, of course, but it always left Remus feeling sickeningly guilty.

“No, it’s fine Sirius, I don’t want it,” he said firmly.

“I’m not getting it for _you_ ,” Sirius said, though Remus could tell he was lying. “I’m going to buy it for myself. You’ve just got to agree to me using your record player so I can listen to it.”

Remus gritted his teeth, but he wasn’t ready for a stand-off. Sirius was nearly as stubborn as he was, and would refuse to back down once an idea was in his head.

“Fine,” he eventually said, handing the record over. “I can’t control what you spend your money on.”

Sirius flashed him a dazzling smile, “Better get used to it, Moony.”

Remus pushed him by the shoulder and they went up to the till. Once Sirius had paid they had to hurry back to Diagon Alley, as they were late to meeting James and Peter. They found them with their noses pressed to the window of _Quality Quidditch Supplies_ , staring fondly at the Nimbus 1700 model on display.

The Marauders went for some lunch at the Leaky Cauldron, James excitedly telling the group stories of his annual summer trip to India. His family had recreated Holi in their garden as James missed the festival, having been at Hogwarts at the time. Remus couldn't stop his heart doing that funny little twang whenever James told them stories of his large, loving family.

Later, they went and saw a film in Leicester Square. Remus had mentioned seeing posters for the latest James Bond instalment, and his three friends were thrilled at the prospect of experiencing some Muggle cinema. Privately, Remus thought the best part about _Live and Let Die_ was the theme song, but tried his best to enjoy the boat chases and melodramatic displays of manliness from Roger Moore.

Eventually five o’clock rolled around and Remus reluctantly bid goodbye to his friends, who were recreating their favourite scenes from the film in the square.

“Thanks for everything, Remus,” Sirius told him quietly as he was leaving. “I’ll take good care of your books.”

Remus didn’t say much when his dad arrived to collect him, and spent the next few weeks in a sort of quiet, withdrawn trance. He was looking forward to going back to Hogwarts but was filled with a strange sort of dread and apprehension. His friends had figured out that he was a werewolf, so the chances that someone else would connect the dots seemed even more likely now. Remus knew he could trust his friends, but knew that others probably wouldn’t be as understanding about his condition. He had a sudden nasty, intrusive thought of Snape realising his secret and felt sick.

In their last week of school Snape had hexed his shoelaces together, causing him to fall face first into a muddy puddle. Unfortunately it was something Remus had grown used to, along with the nasty names he would call him both behind his back and to his face. Snape wouldn’t waste an opportunity to comment on Remus’s class status or family income, but Remus just laughed it off, ignored it, or fired an insult back. Snape was hardly a threat, and his childish insults were nothing more than that — childish. However, Snape seemed fixated on doing whatever he could to bring the Marauders down, and Remus knew that he would be unstoppable if he even suspected that Remus was anything but normal.

It was times like these that Remus missed his mother most, wishing that she was there to provide reassurance and support.

One day in August, Remus had come home from the greengrocers with an armful of produce that was just on the point of turning. Lyall had spent a while squinting and inspecting the vegetables, until finally deciding to make a shepherds pie.

“Not exactly summer food, but I don’t really know what else to make,” Lyall said as he served up. “Your mum was the cook.”

Remus nodded, almost in disbelief that his father had brought his late wife up in conversation. Usually Lyall would dance around the subject and do his best to avoid talking about her, but today he seemed more malleable. They ate their dinner in silence, cutlery clinking loudly against the china plates. Remus washed up slowly, pointedly avoiding looking at his father as he read the _Derbyshire Times_.

Eventually all the pots and pans were clean and dripping on the drying rack, and Remus had no other option but to sit opposite his father and clear his throat.

“Dad?” he tentatively asked.

Lyall looked up, raising his eyebrows in question. They had began having more conversations over the summer, here and there, yet Lyall always seemed mildly surprised whenever Remus decided to speak to him.

Remus could hear the water slowly trickling off the plates. It was difficult to get his words out. “Do you,” he cleared his throat again, nervous. “Do you want to talk about mum?”

Lyall slowly and carefully folded his newspaper, smoothening down the corners and making sure all the sheets were in the right place. “What do you want to know?” his voice was cautious and gravelly, as if he was double-checking every word he said.

“Anything,” Remus swallowed. “I just want to hear you talk about her. Can you do that?”

Lyall’s eyes were unreadable, looking directly at Remus with strange intensity. He exhaled heavily and nodded. “Aye, I can talk about her.”

Remus wasn’t sure how to progress, and leant back in his chair, racking his brain. “You said she was good at cooking?”

“Well, she was Welsh,” Lyall trailed off, smiling to himself. “You know what the Welsh are like.”

“No, I don’t,” Remus said irritably, unable to help himself. “I don’t know any Welsh people.”

Lyall’s face fell and he pressed his lips together. “No, of course you don’t. I’m sorry Remus.”

Remus shrugged and looked out of the window, bored of broken apologies and careful words. The family next door were having a barbecue, plates clattering and voices chattering. They had a fat tabby cat that would sometimes slink into Remus’s room via his open window, rubbing herself unwelcomely against his leg. He could hear the booming, cheerful voice of the father, asking one of his sons if he wanted a chicken leg.

“You remind me of her,” Lyall said softly. “You’ve got her stubbornness. Her nerve. Her resolve to get through anything.”

Remus turned back to face his father, his chest feeling tight. “All I can remember about her is her music.”

Lyall smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Aye, her taste in music was grand. It’s another one of her traits that you seem to have inherited.”

“Did you,” Remus paused, unsure how to ask the question. “Did you enchant her turntable? Because it works at Hogwarts, and—”

“Yes,” Lyall got up suddenly from the table and snapped the kettle on. He faced away from Remus, his shoulders tense. “It was one of the last bits of magic I cast for her. The record player seemed fine with me doing magic in the house, but one day it just stopped working. Didn’t take me too long to fix it up, we joked that it was because of the moon, but then—” Lyall stopped himself, his knuckles white against the yellow laminate cabinet. The kettle began to boil, shuddering and shaking as it let the steam out. “Anyway. That night she played her Shirelles album over and over again—” His voice began to crack. “She knew the words to every song she played. Said it was her little bit of magic, her ability to memorise song lyrics. I remember her taking you by the hands, Merlin, you were so tiny back then, she took you by the hands and just twirled you round and round our little living room. Happy as Larry.”

The kettle finished boiling and Lyall stiffly made two cups of strong tea, placing the chipped mug in front of Remus without looking at him. He sank into his seat and took a gulp from his mug, seemingly unaffected by the scalding liquid. He cleared his throat and slowly rubbed his forehead, his frown lines looking deeper than usual.

“I know you want to know more,” Lyall eventually said. “But it’s still so difficult talking about her,” his eyes finally flicked up to meet Remus’s, full of sorrow and regret. “She really, really loved you, you know.”

Remus could feel a faint prickling behind his eyes, and his cheeks suddenly felt hot. “Do you really think that?”

Lyall made a sudden movement as if he was going to take one of Remus’s hands, but seemed to think the better of it and gripped his mug tightly. “Remus, she would turn in her grave if I ever made you think otherwise. She absolutely doted on you. There were so many things she used to call you, pet names, you know. It was all in Welsh so there’s not a chance I could repeat them, but there is a word I do remember. She would always refer to you as her _cariad_.”

“ _Cariad_ ,” Remus repeated softly, trying to imagine his mother saying it to him. He wasn’t sure if it was his brain trying to fool himself into believing a false memory, but something about the word made him feel calm. He suddenly had a broken vision of a lady with a mass of curly caramel-coloured hair like his smiling down at him, her cheeks pink. He shakily reached for his mug. “Yeah… I think I remember her saying that to me.”

“I know I’m not a good father, but she was _such_ a wonderful mother,” Lyall’s voice caught. “She would’ve loved to see you grow up. She would've been so proud of you.”

Remus blinked rapidly, determined not to cry in front of his father. He didn’t want to look at Lyall, with his hazel eyes teeming with memories and his face scrunched up like old parchment. Remus scrambled to his feet and grabbed his mug, suddenly feeling suffocated. “I’m going to my room,” he choked. “Got some homework to do.”

Lyall didn’t respond as Remus slipped from the room, shutting his door and sliding down to the floor. It seemed funny to yearn for something you had such little memory of, yet the gaping hole that Hope Lupin had left in his life was undeniable.

He often wondered how she would wake him in the mornings, what she would cook for dinner, what songs she would hum while washing up. He would speculate what her favourite perfume was and if she would wear sandals or go barefoot in the summer. How would she take her tea? Would she prefer to sing or dance while listening to a record? Which Beatle was her favourite? How would she look when she was angry? What stories would she read him at night? Sometimes, when Remus was feeling particularly lonely, he would come up with answers to all those questions and more, creating a vivid image of who his mother was.

Remus finally felt ready to cry, but once again no tears came. Perhaps it was the waxing moon, lapping at any emotion and leaving him void and detached, more animal than human. He drew his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around his legs, unable to stop his mind wondering how different his life could have been if his mother was still alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slang dictionary:  
> Ta - thank you  
> Flummoxed - confused  
> Codger - old person  
> Tarra - goodbye  
> Now then? - a greeting, hello  
> Canny - can’t  
> Berk - an idiot
> 
> Song info:  
> The chapter title is The Shape of Things to Come - Slade  
> Sladest [album] - Slade  
> The Dark Side of the Moon [album] - Pink Floyd  
> Baby It’s You [album] - The Shirelles
> 
> Thank you so so much for reading <3


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